


Captain and Lord

by missema



Category: Star Wars: The Old Republic
Genre: Belsavis, Betrayal, Cyborg Sith, Dromund Kaas, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Love, Marriage, Reconciliation, Sexual Content, Sith, Sith Empire, Sith Warrior - Freeform, Tatooine, cyborg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-02
Updated: 2013-04-18
Packaged: 2017-11-27 23:46:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 43
Words: 32,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/667840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missema/pseuds/missema
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Caylia never expected to be anything but a greasemonkey at the Ministry of Logistics.  Being Force sensitive changes everything, in ways she'd never even thought of.  Her journey leads her to love and betrayal and pain, and ultimately to the top.</p><p>Spoilers for the Sith Warrior storyline.  There will be some short chapters and drabbles mixed in with longer stories, in mostly chronological order.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Escape from Kaas City

Kaas City wasn't anything at all how Caylia had expected it to be, but then again she was quickly learning that a poor girl's fantasy was almost always more grand than the reality. The truth was that for all of her life, she'd wondered about the capital, the seat of power for the Empire. Wondered, and thought that unless she screwed up terribly at her job, there would be no way she'd ever see the city. It was gloomy under the dark skies, only lit by lightning that usually came accompanied by terrible booms of thunder. She wondered how they'd even built buildings on the soft, shifting ground, let alone something as towering and large as the citadel. She supposed there must be rock underneath it, or maybe the bodies of the slaves that perished to make it. That thought made a shudder run through Caylia.  
  
"Do you think it always rains?" She asked Vette as they waited for a speeder, and her companion had merely shrugged at the question.  
  
"Seems like the lightning storms are a regular thing here. Better get used to it." Vette stroked her lekku, pushing some of the rain off of them. It was a pointless gesture, but it gave her something to do other than indulge Caylia in her whining.  
  
"Great." Caylia grumbled. She didn't do well in the wet weather, but she'd been in worse. Vette shrugged again, not bothering to voice the thought that she was just glad to be out of lockup on Korriban. They both knew it was just a stop.  
  
It wasn't at all what she'd been expecting, but life as a Sith was turning out to be much more different than she'd ever pictured it. True, she'd been taught to respect the Sith, for it was only because of them and the Emperor that they didn't suffer under the Republic's false ideas of democracy covered by lies. Caylia had been proud to serve and do her small part, even if it was just a job fixing things. But being Sith, that was all anyone could ever hope for in the Empire, and it felt wrong to say that it fell short of her dreams.  
  
After running what seemed like endless errands for the Darth, she was granted a ship. By that time, the rain was really getting to her, and she was decidedly less thrilled about being Sith than she had been when she'd gotten onto the shuttle that took her to meet Overseer Tremel. She didn't dare complain to Baras, she was grateful for the chances he was giving her, though she wasn't loyal by a longshot. He was playing an end-game that she was simply a pawn in, as he told her many times. The thing was. Caylia wasn't sure if she didn't like being a pawn, or just didn't like being one for the odious Darth Baras.  
  
Leaving Dromund Kaas was one of the best parts of Caylia's apprenticehood. She wasn't from the rainy jungle planet, but then again, she wasn't really from any planet. Her parents had been operatives of the Ministry of Logistics, as she'd been before she'd shown her Force sensitivity. She'd grown up on a variety of ships and stations, and was sent off to a boarding academy when they couldn't have her nearby. She'd never visited Dromund Kass, her parents weren't of the correct station to purchase a residence there, never rising in the ranks to be considered amongst the elite, and they weren't wealthy or influential.  
  
In fact, she'd never thought she'd see anything close to the citadel, let alone imagined she'd be welcomed in it - until she displayed her late burst of Force sensitivity. She was twenty-nine years old, but she'd learned that there were times when age and relative maturity didn't have much to do with the Force. It had taken Caylia by surprise at first, and she'd tried to hide it. Ironically, it was the day she received word of her father dying that ignited her powers, her sadness and rage making them flare. As a child it was her father that tried hardest to discern if she was Force sensitive, pushing her with exercises and dangerous games. She'd loved the excitement, craved the gifts and rewards he'd said would come her way if she proved to be a Sith. Once he was gone, it seemed her potential was tapped, and not too long after, she found herself at the Sith Academy on the rocky, red landscape of Korriban.  
  
She was a warrior, taking to the training with unexpected ease. There had been combat lessons before, but in her compulsory military service she had never excelled. They'd relegated her to the fixing of speeders, trucks and tanks, designated her support and gave her a ragged blaster to wear on her hip instead of something powerful. The colleagues that waved her off never expected her to actually live past day one on Korriban, let alone become apprentice to a Darth.  
  
But her single saber and shield had protected her against the trails at the Sith Academy, and robbed Vemrin of his chance to murder her. Then, in true Sith form, she'd taken his place under Darth Baras. Somehow, her time at the academy still made her feel guilty when she looked back on it, though she tried to be pragmatic and think of it as the true Sith training. The relics and fetch quests were all well and good, but true Sith were about getting to the top and serving themselves, following their own agenda - at least they were according to everything she'd seen so far. Caylia shook her head, her high, dark ponytail whipping her in the face as she tried to clear the memories from her mind. Checking the astrogation map, she attempted to distract herself from getting too lost in her own thoughts.  
  
All of that was behind her, as was Dromund Kass. While Caylia didn't like her Master at all, she appreciated the ship and direction. The ship was a beautiful battle ship, made for a Sith and outfitted well but it felt too big for just her and Vette. Having an onboard droid helped, especially when she found out it knew how to cook and clean. That was almost as helpful as having Vette's double blasters at her side. Unlike herself, Vette was actually skilled in using blasters, and was quite handy in a fight. If she could get a few more crew members, she might have a good team at her back. Flying around the galaxy for Darth Baras wouldn't be so awful if she found the right people and only returned sparingly to Dromund Kaas.  
  
She was so sick of rain, she didn't care what the next planet was like, though she wasn't eager to go to the ice planet she'd heard about - Hoth. The frozen Outer Rim planet was far from her destination and when she landed in Sobrik, her spirits were considerably lifted. Balmorra, while full of toxic lakes, Republic wastrels and freedom fighters alike, was at least sunny. And once she'd basked in the sunshine and filthy air enough she met her contact on the planet, Lieutenant Malavai Quinn.


	2. Balmorra

 

"Lieutenant, I want you to apprise my apprentice of the situation on Balmorra.  Leave nothing out.  She has an important job to do.  I will give her mission briefing myself - it is of the utmost sensitivity."

"Of course, my lord."  Malavai Quinn answered, pressing hand to chest, head bowed.  

 "Report in after she has departed."  Darth Baras instructed, and ended the transmission.

 Balmorra wasn't a planet he hated, Quinn was savvy enough to see the importance of it.  He had been assigned there and would serve for as long as he was so directed.  To say that he liked Balmorra, or even his current position, would be to stretch the truth to breaking point.  At least he had his work for Darth Baras to keep him distracted.

 Not that his lord ever really needed much from him on Balmorra.  There were the occasional jobs, information about people, granting safe passage to another, arresting people his lord deemed troublesome for one reason or another.  He was grateful to be of any use at all, especially after Druckenwell.  It was a surprise that Baras was sending another Sith to Balmorra, obviously something had happened that was well beyond the range of Malavai's own capabilities.  Strong and smart as he may be, and he did his best, he was no Sith and couldn't even match their level of power.  There was a storm brewing, but Quinn was lost as to whether it was a dangerous time for the Empire or just for his master.

 Darth Baras wouldn't tell him anything, except the barest facts of the mission he'd sent his new apprentice on.  It was rare that his master had anything direct to do with Balmorra, but Quinn welcomed the chance to once again do more than his regular duties.  All around him was fighting and chaos, a never ending loop of battles.  It wore on him from time to time, and he'd considered resigning more than once, but he couldn't abandon Baras or his duty so easily.  He'd had dreams once, to serve and be a part of his family's tradition.  Every once in a while he had to remind himself that they might still come true.

 The apprentice was to arrive soon, but he'd taken the time to look up a little bit of information about her.  She'd just left the Sith Academy recently, but she was a late recruit.  Somewhat past the age where most show their Force sensitivity, it was said that she was particularly gifted and her education rushed by the overzealous Tremel, whom Baras had no love for when he lived.  The woman was a human cyborg, her implants used to enhance hearing and vision, given to her when she was a child by a military doctor.  Her parents apparently were loyal Imperial specialists, but not soldiers.  There was little else about her, except that all of her trials had been exemplary, that she showed the dedication and decisiveness needed to be a Sith Lord.

 When the young woman - Caylia was her name - came into the room, her presence almost filled it.  He didn't have to see her walk in, he could feel it, feel her.  Even if he hadn't been expecting her, Quinn would have known her to be a Sith Lord by her very bearing, she radiated power and energy.  He hadn't been around many Sith, but they were far more impressive than the passive Jedi he'd encountered.  There was no way he'd last long in a fight with either, even with the docility that the Jedi pretend at.  As she strode into the room, a Twi'lek followed her, armed with blasters.  That must have been the slave Baras mentioned traveled with her.  Curious of her to arm a slave, especially one that wasn't collared, but he didn't dare question her.

"Lieutenant Malavai Quinn, my lord."  He said, introducing himself to her as soon as Jillins scampered from the room.

Hair back in a high ponytail and dressed in black armor, Quinn had to admit to himself that she was attractive.  It was unexpected - since he hadn't noticed anyone in that way in such a very long time.  Her tone was businesslike, brisk and commanding, but he liked that, it befitted her status.  

 After she'd departed, Quinn watched her walk out and surprised himself by letting out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.  It had been a long time since he'd been in the presence of a Sith, including Darth Baras.  They mostly communicated by holo, and he found her presence almost overwhelming.  Amiable as she'd been in their interaction, it made her more intimidating, not less.  That she could use charm and smiles as well as a lightsaber meant that she was especially dangerous.

 No matter his thoughts on Lord Caylia, he had a job to do.  Baras would be awaiting his holocall to report in.  Quinn steadied himself, taking a deep breath that filled his chest.  He was to help her, and that was all, but he had a feeling she wouldn't leave this world unchanged.

 

#####

 

Caylia left Lieutenant Quinn in his barracks with a quick glance over her shoulder.  Maybe later they'd put those barracks to good use, she thought, then immediately chastised herself.  No no no.  This was exactly the wrong place for that kind of thought, but it crept into her mind anyway.  He was cute, well more than cute, but she wasn't going to think about it anymore.  At least, not until her mission was finished and she could talk to Quinn again without it hanging over them.

Balmorra was a planet filled with fighting, and it bothered Caylia that Baras had little interest in the conflict.  This mission was about self-preservation, about his spy network.  The rage that kind of selfishness created in her, fueled her as she cut down her enemies.  She didn't like Baras at all - she could feel the tension building between them, as it had with Vemrin back on Korriban.  At least with him, she'd understood Vemrin's anger - she was a threat to all he'd built.  Baras was motivated by nothing but self interest and she was nothing but a useful tool.  The day would come when he would try to kill her, of that she was sure, because all tools cease to be useful at some point.

"You're scary sometimes, you know that?"  Vette panted, after a particularly hard fight.  "But you're also, not what I would expect from a Sith."

"What do you mean?"

 "You have a certain, I don't know, jokey-ness?  Sense of fun."

"Let's call it 'joviality', shall we?"

 "Well, whatever.  I just think it throws people off.  It's unexpected.  You made that Lieutenant back in Sobrik blush a few times." 

Caylia laughed, the last vestiges of her battle rage evaporating at the thought of Malavai Quinn.  "It was my intent to throw him off.  But he's intriguing, and definitely attractive."

 Vette wrinkled her petite nose in disagreement.  So a taste in men wasn't something they shared - that was oddly comforting to Caylia.  "If you say so.  Not much for Imperial lackeys myself."

 "Nothing fuels a good flirtation like serving the same master."  Caylia quipped, but it was lost on Vette.  She simply made a face her at and moved on, more than ready to continue on their way.

 The Twi'lek's observations were nothing new to Caylia, but it still startled her to hear them coming from such a new companion.  Perhaps it was the stress and duration of her trials that made it more evident, but usually people had to at least take time to know her before the jokes and personality came out.

Caylia was private, but in this instance, appreciated Vette knowing her.  It made the whole ordeal of being Sith and all that it entailed, somehow less daunting.  It was nice to have someone, even if she didn't quite understand everything.  There would be enough time to get to know each other, and Caylia was grateful to just have a friend.


	3. A Tireless Servant

After watching Lord Caylia on Balmorra, Quinn knew that he wanted to go wherever she went. It wasn't simply that he was attracted to her power, though it helped that she wasn't the typical Sith. Her power alone wasn't enough to warrant following her around the galaxy. It was more than that, he knew her to be special and that he was meant to go with her. On every operation, she exceeded his statistical projections, and was unexpectedly thoughtful, kind and compassionate. She wasn't all unbridled power and no brains, as so many Sith apprentices were. There was a spark, the intangible but palpable feeling that was ill-defined by the word special, but he lacked any better way to put it.

And he thought her as beautiful as she was powerful, but he tried to keep that thought in the back of his mind. It had been many, many moons since a woman had aroused his interest so thoroughly, causing a faint sense of alarm to ring through him when he realized how much he'd enjoyed her flirtations. But surely they could be professional enough to set that aside and focus on her undoubtedly important mission. He could always focus on the mission.

He waited for her to go back to her ship, the one place he was sure she would go. With his freedom from this posting assured by Darth Baras's edict and his promotion, Quinn wanted nothing more than to put this planet behind him. His head raced, recalling all the skills he had to offer her should she ask for his qualifications. In Sobrik's spaceport, he waited anxiously, composing himself by compiling a mental list of his accomplishments, ready on the tip of his tongue for when she headed to her ship.

Lord Caylia arrived, the Twi'lek at her side. Once he'd apologized for his unexplained presence at her ship, he launched into his spiel, hoping that she would find some of it to be enough. He only wanted the opportunity.

"I would be pleased to have you, Quinn." Caylia'd answered, her response sending hope streaming back into his world. From Balmorra to serving a Sith Lord personally - this was a development he could not have planned for, yet would never change.

Upon her ship, the droid assigned him a bunk and gave him a short tour. When he finished unpacking his few belongings, he headed to the bridge.

Even though they were still in Sobrik, he breathed deeply letting the feeling of freedom flow through him. This was where he belonged, on the bridge of a ship. He'd been stationed planetside for far too long. Caylia joined him and gave him her first command, to set in a course of Nar Shaddaa. The astrogation map responded to his every movement with an alacrity the old machines on Balmorra hadn't possessed, and he set the destination and prepped them for take off. It took until they were headed firmly towards Hutt Space before he actually let himself believe it. Lieutenant Quinn had been left behind, and Captain Quinn was speeding towards a new place.


	4. Companion Dance

So the dancing originally started with Vette, and being bored. Running errands for Baras consisted of a lot more waiting than doing, except when it wasn't. The action that her master sent them on often required long stretches of travel, contacting people and waiting around, and Caylia searched for ways to amuse herself.

Back on Dromund Kaas, it had been Vette that started it. She wanted to learn the steps that Caylia so often did, dancing a little jig to keep herself warm in the pounding rain. After that, the two of them made up little dances to do together. They'd danced all across Balmorra, on elevators, in tents and waiting around to talk to the unfortunate Darth Lachris. It gave the Twi'lek a kick to see Caylia teaching them to a resigned Quinn, who looked stiff and formal in his Imperial uniform as he learned the steps. She wasn't quite sure why he did it, other than she'd asked him to.

But Caylia loved to dance, and most of the time, she danced by herself. When she'd first learned to dance, she'd done so by watching a Hutt's dancer as a child, and so most of the time, those were the steps she preferred. It had amused her parents to no end when she was six, not so much when she was sixteen.

It was only when she saw Quinn determinedly _not_ watching her dance that she realized maybe the dancing was best saved for a cantina, or on the ship. Perhaps they'd just forget it all together. The thought stayed with her until the next elevator came, lowering them down to a platform on Nar Shaddaa.

"Come on, Captain. You know what I'm thinking of." Caylia prodded, a smile on her face.

Without a word, Quinn began the quick two-step that she'd started teaching him on the taxi platform at the spaceport. He was a better dancer than she'd have thought at first glance, and she couldn't help but admire the way his body took to the twists and turns. He may not have watched her dance, but Caylia wasn't above watching him.


	5. Gifts

The gifts began on Nar Shaddaa. At first, he wasn't sure what it was when he came onto the bridge to report for duty. A plain package waited for him, and with some trepidation, he picked it up. The holotag read: For Captain Quinn, From Caylia.

But inside was an ammunition belt, simple yet of good quality. It was a practical, thoughtful gift. He realized it was the kind of thing given when one joins a crew or gets promoted, both of which were true in his case. There was the underlying thought, that she had given it to him because of her obvious interest in an attempt to woo him. Without any indication one way or the other, he wasn't sure how the gift was meant. Did it hold some larger significance that he was missing, or was she simply a doting lord?

He would never have the temerity to ask her directly, but a few pointed questions could go a long way towards clearing up her intentions. Quinn sighed. If she was giving him preferential treatment, he would need to have a talk with her. There were enough blemishes on his record without casting the pall of his not earning his place on the ship. Unfortunately, he knew she wasn't around, off with Vette on the corrupt Hutt moon. At least her absence gave him time to think on the things he needed to say, to compose sufficiently respectful and informative responses to any objections she might raise. He wasn't sure just what the gift meant until later, when Vette came in showing off some Polished Meteorite pieces Caylia had given her. 

"Does she give gifts often?" He asked the Twi'lek.

"Well, she's been nice to me. She's all 'my buddy the Sith Lord' with me. I don't know about you." Vette frowned as her eyes ticked over him, as if truly seeing him for the first time. She looked like she wanted to say something then thought better of it, pursing her lips together. After a breath, she continued. "Well, she certainly likes making you blush, but I think this is just her way of saying she appreciates having us along."

"I see. Thank you Vette. I should compose an appropriate note of thanks to her ASAP."

"You do that." Vette said, snickering as she watched Quinn take his measured steps back to the bridge. He heard her, he just didn't care. He'd made few friends on Balmorra, and had a couple from his earlier years of service. He found himself welcoming the idea of having another, though his preference was for Caylia, not the Twi'lek.


	6. Observations

Observations (Her on Him)  
Captain Quinn reeked of _subordination_. Even after some time on the ship with her and Vette, he was still diligently formal, as if she were running a military ship. After their time on Balmorra, he'd become accustomed to her flirting, and though was still awkward at times, managed to deflect most of her advances. Sometimes she only did it to get under his skin, to ruffle those feathers just a little and see a little frustration, a little interest, anything that said he was more than a machine.

Despite all of that, she liked him. Really liked Quinn, in a way that was more than just admiring that dark hair and pretty blue eyes. If she had to name it, she might even call it a crush. It seemed absurd to have a crush on Captain Quinn, but all of the requirements, including mooning over him and sneaking looks when he wasn't paying attention - she was guilty of them all. He was bold when it counted, and wore command easier than most of the military officers she'd worked with. He was unimpeachably honest, and stuck to his convictions. He even stood up to her, albeit in a respectful manner.

All the reports she couldn't be bothered with - he did them. Between Captain Quinn and the droid, the ship was in good hands. She'd struggled to keep up with the information thrown at them, military and war updates from all fronts, information about her missions and the ship. Quinn managed it all with apparent ease, telling her the most important bits when she reported on the bridge. She was free to spar with Vette and make sure her equipment was in working order.

She'd never met a man like him before. There had been plenty of military men in her life, both personally and professionally, but none quite like the captain. The men that lived for the job didn't look twice at her, but she'd seen him appreciating her more than once. It made her question what went on behind that whole facade. He was deeper than he seemed, harboring passions and a life that was simmering beneath his calm surface. She just wanted to bring it to the forefront. Passion was after all, at the root of her power as a Sith.

As much as she resented the subordination that lived in him, she couldn't deny its benefits. He was a more than capable officer, and just what the ship needed to keep it running. Left to her and Vette, poor Toovee would be doing all the work himself as they went around the galaxy getting into fights. The thought of that made Caylia smile just a little. Quinn added a nice balance to the crew. She just hoped that there was something bold and romantic in there as well. Perhaps she wore that hope too openly, because Vette scoffed whenever she saw Caylia watching Quinn and he grew rigid and awkward.

This was one of those times. She'd looked over at him and gotten lost in her own mind, only coming back when he cleared his throat pointedly.

"My lord, I am going to start the systems checks."

Caylia flushed and mumbled an affirmation, turning back to her own work. She was either going to scare him away or make things even worse for herself. Possibly both.

#####

Observations (Him on Her)  
If he had to pick one word to describe Lord Caylia's personality, it would be hard. Not mean or undesirable, but hard, as in uncompromising, and strong. She was like a rounded diamond, beautiful and polished to sparkle, but with no way to get purchase or to penetrate the facets inside. Better left as an object to display, not something to be held by one person. Yet, even though he knew this about her, Quinn liked her in a way that was not at all professional.

It bothered him that he was so aware of her. Even without looking, he knew where she was at all times, even when they weren't in immediate proximity. He told himself that it was something that he would do with any commander, but he knew that wasn't true. No other commander, or even another person made the hair on the back of his neck stand up when they entered a room. No one else drew his gaze away from his objective as they ran over some of the most dangerous trenches of Balmorra to finish an old mission, or through the back alleys of Nar Shaddaa while being shot at by alien gang members.

The fact that he was so distracted was a source of shame for him. At this point in his life he should know how to master his reaction to a woman. The fact was, he was woefully out of practice. After being assigned to Balmorra, Quinn had dallied a few times with local women, never subordinates, but settled into a comfortable celibacy.

There had once been a relationship, more through letters than in person, someone who moved on to another officer when he was court-martialed. It was funny, but he'd spent so little time with her that his normally reliable memory grew fuzzy. He couldn't recall the color of her eyes or when they met, only his relief when it was over. He'd found clarity without the distraction of sex, and he hadn't felt the pull of lust in quite some time. Now, he was confronted by all he'd tried to avoid, wrapped up into one powerful Sith package that liked to flirt with him.

Still, he could handle this, he merely thought of it as a test on most days. There were the few times when her pretty hazel eyes caught his, and he wondered just what was behind them. Something more than camaraderie, but less than affection. "My lord, systems checks are complete. I will send you the report of course, but would you like to hear the notable aspects?"

"Go ahead," Caylia said with a wave of her hand. "Regale me." She hadn't even turned to look at him as she said it, her attention still focused on the map in front of her.

"Everything is operating within normal parameters my lord. There are things we could improve upon, but that is outlined in the report." Quinn said. He thought he saw her roll her eyes, but surely he'd imagined it. Such an action was beneath one of her stature.

"Good. I'm going to bed then, unless you need anything else." Something about her was off, her energy, the way she sounded. It was as he'd offended her without trying.

"Nothing more, my lord. Have a pleasant rest."

She turned towards him for the first time, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Do I have to make it an order for you to get some rest as well? Or will you go quietly?"

Quinn didn't smile back at her, though it took some effort on his part. He just nodded. "As you wish, my lord."

They left the bridge together, and he watched her veer off into her personal quarters part of him wondering if she'd ever be so bold as to invite him with her. There was no surety he'd say no if she ever asked outright. He banished the thought - it simply wasn't appropriate.


	7. A Battle of Insecurities

She listened carefully as he explained why he was on Balmorra. It had crossed her mind that a talented officer like Quinn shouldn't be languishing as a lieutenant but she'd set it aside when Darth Baras had informed her that powerful Imperials were dedicated to keeping Quinn down. Still, she hadn't expected to find out this. It made her sad in a way she wasn't expecting - the infighting in the Empire was out of hand if Moffs were wasting time keeping good officers down. Moff Broysc - even if she hadn't heard of him, he was a Moff - the rank was almost enough on its own to demand unwavering loyalty, despite whether the man behind it was no longer deserving of such respect.

Druckenwell was a legendary battle, one where the Empire nearly lost. They prevailed at great cost, and Caylia stands there, in awe that Quinn fought in it, that he helped turn the tide.

She'd been nineteen and just over an illness that had threatened to end her life. The Empire had gone to great lengths to make sure she was of use to them before they let her join the Ministry of Logistics. She'd worked on the ships that they'd been tossing into the fight - long hours toiling over repairs, superiors breathing down her neck to go faster, tired eyes in need of more than four hours of sleep. There had been no fighting in her part of Druckenwell, but she remembered it clearly. It felt like a lifetime ago, but then again to Caylia, everything that happened before a shuttle came to take her to Korriban was a lifetime ago.

Still, it made her wonder things that weren't strictly relevant to their conversation. What had the Moff asked Quinn to do? And more important to her immediate thoughts - how old was Quinn? If a decade ago he'd been a decorated and promising young officer, how old was the man in front of her?

But Caylia didn't dare ask. She didn't want him to think her missing the point. It was plain that this confession was difficult for him, because though he'd saved lives and turned the battle - he'd failed. Failed to stand up to this Moff, failed the save more lives by acting sooner. His shame was evident in the way he spoke of it, the bitterness that colored his measured tones. She let him tell his story, thanked him with a solemn look in her eyes, and felt silly for wondering.

The curiosity the story piqued in her niggled at her later on, when her heavy eyes were closing and her mind led her down a path that inevitably led to thoughts of Quinn. She could simply look it up - he was part of her crew and his records were available to her, but he would know. He would see her access into the crew files, and might question her, not with words, but by looks, by deeds that stretched him to his limit to prove himself. She didn't want to do that to him. How many times had he already thanked her for the opportunity to serve?

#####

Vette knew something was up, because Caylia draped an arm over her shoulders and complimented her lekku all before she'd even had a bite of food. They were sitting together on the couch, while Quinn was sleeping. He pointedly took his meals alone or just with Caylia after Vette might have played one too many little jokes on him. Watching his face puff up and turn red made him such an easy target. 

"Whatever it is you want, no." Vette said immediately.

"Come on, Vette. You don't even know what it is yet."

She shook her head stubbornly, refusing to be drawn in. "I know, but I already know it's not good, otherwise you wouldn't need to convince me."

"I'm not convincing you, I was just appreciating you. And all you do around the ship. And for me. Have I mentioned that I really like your blasters." Caylia said, eyes round with faux-innocence as she spoke.

Vette snorted. "Seriously. Not going to to work."

"But I just need one little thing. A teeny tiny thing."

"You aren't going to give up until you tell me, so go ahead."

"Ask Quinn how old he is."

That wasn't what the Twi'lek was expecting after all that wheedling. The request was even more confusing since Caylia made it seem like such a big deal. She wrinkled her petite nose in confusion as she turned back to Caylia's imploring face. "How about you just go in and ask him?"

"I can't, it would be strange. He told me this story about an event that happened a decade ago, and it made me wonder..."

"But you can't ask? Even after he told you a story? Come on, my lord. You can do it. He's in there alone in his regulation pajamas. Not scary at all unless you don't like Imperial boring grey. Just go and ask him." Vette said.

"I'm not afraid, if that's what you're thinking. I simply want to avoid awkwardness. The story wasn't something that just comes up in conversation." Caylia didn't want to betray Quinn's confidence, but she also wanted Vette to be interested. Nothing she said would sway Vette, and eventually she gave up after Vette stated she didn't care how old "General Tightass" was.

She supposed she could have asked a simple, direct question. That was her style normally, but it didn't feel right in this instance. Instead Caylia labored next to Quinn on the bridge, trying to phrase the question right.

"May we speak about Druckenwell again?" She finally said, hating the way her words came out formally.

Quinn started at the break in their comfortable silence, and her question. "Of course, my lord."

"I remember it from a different point of view. I was nineteen then, and I had just begun working in Logistics. I had to repeat a year of schooling after I had an illness so I finished late. The battle ignited as we were working on routine repairs, supply ships and speeders, blasters meant for the colonies - that sort of thing. We dropped everything to aid the troops, all of their repairs and supplies came first."

Quinn didn't speak, so Caylia went on. "It was frightening, even for me. I knew it was a big battle, that my work could possibly save a life. Looking back, it would almost be daunting if I'd let myself think about it. It seems so long ago."

"Your part was vital, as was mine. A solider relies on his weapons without thought. Your service to the Empire was critical."

"Thank you, Quinn. I don't kid myself that I did as much as those who had to fight. But I served the Empire, as did we all." She answered absently. He straightened up at her words about the Empire, standing taller, looking proud. He was an Imperial through and through. "How old were you then?"

"How old was I? Twenty-seven, my lord." 

She nodded, as if lost in her own memories about the battle. Her imagery was quite different, thinking of what confidence and clarity he must have had. Those weren't the idealist days anymore, when fresh out of school and training, the world seems ripe for the plucking and ambition overwhelms good sense. That age was when the ugliness has shown itself, when someone who sleeps with a superior is promoted over someone that deserves it more, when the consequences of fucking up costs a life - when idealism is dashed against a rock and left to bleed out, no matter how you try to stem the flow with your hands. 

Quinn had to know he was going to lose, and still did what he thought was right. Afterwards he paid for it, lost much, and was disgraced when he should have been rewarded, shunted aside when he might have been promoted. "You are a credit to the crew, Captain. I don't care about your past problems. I'm glad you're here."

He gave her the first real smile she'd seen since he came aboard the ship. It broke through ten years of doubt and penance, of insecurity and shame and left nothing behind but the competent, handsome officer. "It is my pleasure to serve, my lord."


	8. The HoloNet

"Do you ever just wish for _fucking_ quiet?" Caylia asked out of nowhere, as they sat on the bridge together, working.

"My lord, I think you just ended that with your question." Quinn replied, keeping his voice bland as he did. She swore an awful lot, and while it wasn't her most becoming habit, he had grown used to it for the most part. Caylia laughed.

"You have me there. No, I mean I was just doing some research for my next assignment, and I feel like nothing is reliable information. It feels like everyone is jockeying for position, fucking shouting to get attention for their feeble words."

"That is an interesting observation, my lord."

"I hate it. I hate that everyone thinks they deserve to know your life story over the HoloNet just so you can get some basic factual information. I hate talking to contacts that have no sense of propriety or dignity. Why has all of that been lost in a bid for attention? Can't we all just be quiet, for a moment and think?"

Quinn said nothing to this, and Caylia laughed again, the sound itself edgier, and more tired than before. "You don't have to pay attention to me, Captain. I am not the most social of creatures, so every once in a while, interaction, whether it is in person or otherwise, gets to me."

"If you like, my lord, I can take up the duties you find tiresome."

"Captain, I appreciate the offer, but you would have no time to sleep if I did that." She sighed. "We all have our burdens."

Quinn was ever mindful of her temperament, crossed over to where she sat, and looked down at her. "You should retire, my lord. It has been a long day." He'd betrayed no opinion during her little tirade, but she could sense a faint amusement in him as he made his suggestion.

When she looked up at him, their eyes locked. The moment was breathless, frozen, and in that flash, she could read everything in his eyes. His offer was entirely altruistic, born of a desire to take care of her, not duty to the Empire. Banked behind the veneer of duty was carefully guarded desire, cloaked in professionalism and respect was a spark that could become something more. There was a future, him and her together, powerful, devoted and passionate. It was a reflection of a better future that could come to pass.

And then it was gone, she exhaled and Quinn was simply standing there, his hands behind his back. "You're right. Goodnight, Captain."

"Rest well, my lord."


	9. Tatooine

Dessicated and brittle were too apt when it came to describing Tatooine, with its harsh landscapes of endless dunes and unfriendly natives. It was the very last place Malavai Quinn expected to fall in love. Well, it was exactly on Tatooine that he fell in love with Lord Caylia, that was a gradual process. But it was in the Outer Rim that realization struck him across the face.

Every night there, Caylia would take apart their weapons and anything else mechanical. While he cleaned the armor and grumbled in his head, she would painstakingly remove sand from his blaster and her saber and shield generator, then attend to her speeder. She hummed while she worked, sweating in the heat that persisted well into the evenings. He hated this planet, and all the trials and things they had to endure to find this blasted padawan. Everything began to annoy him on Tatooine. What did padawan even mean? Was it a word?

Keen as his own discomfort was, he noticed one thing about her. Caylia never complained, not once. Not about the heat and sand, not about the endlessness of their mission, not about a single thing. Sure, he'd heard her on the ship when she expressed her less than favorable feelings on something, and she definitely couldn't be described as pleased whenever she contact with Darth Baras, but on missions, she didn't complain. On Tatooine, where complaining about the heat, sand and Sand People were the most common topics of conversation, that was an achievement.

She was his leader, and one night he watched her as she worked. Her fingers shone in the dim light, shining with the oil that she used to clean and repel the sand. It unnerved him to notice how lovely her hands were as she worked, careful and strong. Slow and methodically, she took their things apart, coaxing sand out of places he hadn't know it could hide, cleaning and oiling as needed, humming all the while. Quinn watched Caylia, her ponytail swinging as she moved from place to place, taking apart piece after piece and setting it aside. Anyone else and he would have been wary, but this had been her job, her life, in service to Empire before she'd discovered her Force sensitivity. 

"Do you require my assistance, my lord?" He asked, after realizing he had just been standing there for a few minutes.

"No, I'm alright." She answered. "I know you hate this heat. Why don't you go on and get your water allocation and get cleaned up."

"My lord, I never meant to complain in any way. There's no place I would rather be than fighting at your side." Quinn explained quickly, his face turning red. He hadn't voiced his distaste for Tatooine, but she'd still picked up on it.

Caylia gave him a smile that confounded him. It was almost shy, not like her at all. She'd been obvious in her flirtations before. "Well if you want to stay, hand me that wrench." She said, pointing a wrench next to an open toolbox.

He scooped it up and brought it to her, letting his hand touch hers as she took it from him. Her skin was still soft, which was surprising given the heat, and he wondered how the rest of her skin fared. The thought took him out of himself, wishing he were the kind of man that could lean in and kiss her, take her to his tent and make it hotter in there than it was on all of Tatooine. He still remembered how to do that, and was betting she wouldn't mind if he filled in the gaps in his memories. There was a current, not quite a shock, but a charge as their hands met. Her eyes locked to his own, and he knew - she'd felt it too. But he let it go, let it fizzle out again as he had so many times before. 

Quinn cleared his throat, forcing himself to stand up straight and look away as he released the wrench. This pretense couldn't go on, but yet, he wasn't sure how to end it. Making a move would require him to be someone he'd long since forgotten. How was it that he could remember the end results, but not how to get there, how to give in? He had been a different man before Balmorra, before Druckenwall. Younger, ambitious and hungry, and keenly aware of his rising star status. Quinn was always discreet and careful - there was no need to be sabotage himself, even if that was what had happened in the end. She turned and resumed working, but not humming to herself, eyes not looking at him.

"Perhaps I will take your earlier suggestion, my lord. If you will excuse me."

"Dismissed, Captain." She replied without interrupting her own work. Malavai was outside before he knew it, breathing in the arid scent of desert night. He was in love with her.


	10. In the Stillness

It was always when she was most unshielded, sleep and dreaming, that the attraction she tried so hard to keep in check threaten to spill over. Caylia was so careful most of the time to keep their flirting playful, to be mostly business with him and work more on cultivating the friendship. She'd almost convinced herself that in time her crush would fade.

It had intensified instead, growing bigger and bigger until she felt like everyone could see it. She should simply wear a big light up sign that read "HOPELESS" on it.

But in her dreams, she was never as awkward and obvious as in life. In dreams, she coaxed from him his rare chuckles, laughing blue eyes that stayed open when they kissed. Her mind conjured fantasies of things she'd never seen and she pictured Quinn's muscled chest with a dusting of black hair for her to run her fingers through, his body as well-made and neat without clothes as it was in uniform.

They were dreams, borne of her desires but not her own direction and at times she awoke full of heat and wetness between her legs. Her mind took to granting her the release that she was normally too tired to work at achieving. Her work had increased temporarily, since Quinn wasn't even aboard the ship - he'd asked for permission to pursue the SIS agent he'd cornered. Apparently that small detail hadn't mattered to her subconscious. She'd dreamed of them together on an indistinguishable planet, apparently alone in some dark corner that could have been a warehouse or the like, the two of them half-undressed as urgency overtook them. Her waking mind would have told her the truth, that a man that pinned her against a wall with the ferocity of his kiss couldn't be the stoic officer she knew, but asleep it made no difference.

Caylia didn't trust herself to sleep after that dream, she could still feel his mouth pressed to hers, the spark he sent down her spine with his touch. Her body was much too aware and exhausted for sparring with the practice dummy, and she didn't want to wake Vette anyway, so she went to do her next favorite thing - take apart her weapons and speeder.

She worked for hours, losing herself in the role of mechanic, a suit that was still more comfortable to her than Sith. Wiping grease onto the already stained trousers she'd slipped into, she stood back and admired the overhaul she'd given her speeder. It should be much more efficient, and thusly quicker. As she was putting away the spare parts, choosing what to discard and what could be salvaged voices alerted her to the crew waking. She didn't bother to stop - Vette and Toovee didn't need her to go about their duties but Caylia would check the bridge soon - after a shower.

"My lord, I am back from my mission. I'm pleased to report Agent Voloren's decade of espionage has been brought to an end. It is a great day for the Empire." Quinn's triumphant voice said from the doorway.

When she looked up to answer, her heart skipped a little to see him framed in the doorway. _Hopeless_. The thought flitted through her head the split second before she answered. She mustered as much of a winning smile as she could give him and said her congratulations. It was selfish and pitiful, how ardently she wished that the same enthusiasm he had for serving the Empire could be turned towards her for once. But such desires were the province of her dreams alone, no matter how hard she worked to avoid them.


	11. It Happened on Hutta

Hutta was a vile little world, but then again, Quinn detested everything to do with the Hutts. It was fitting that this was the locale of a showdown between Nomen Karr and Caylia. He deserved to die on a filthy backwater, as she emerged triumphant. After being on Alderaan, Hutta seemed particularly pungent. As he tried to knock some of the toxic muck from his boots, he missed Alderaan, even if the trying civil war and politics had reminded him of the worst parts of Dromund Kaas.

Caylia seemed more annoyed than anything else. He didn't have to wonder why after chasing this young woman all around the galaxy and being goaded by Nomen Karr. That she wasn't worried, or didn't betray it to him bolstered his resolve. They had fought Jedi before, but somehow this seemed different. Karr had been Baras's battle - not hers. If this Jedi were equal to their master, he worried about their chances. Still, Caylia had prevailed on Tatooine when he'd been rendered unconscious by the Jedi master there, putting the odds in his silent calculation in her favor.

The true test would be afterwards, after she'd bested Karr. In his observations, Caylia could be too softhearted for her own good. Sith he was not, but he grew up in Kaas City and gone to one of the best, and most competitive military academies. That he lived showed that he survived the machinations of those wanted otherwise. People more cunning than his few enemies were aiming at Caylia and she didn't dispose of them all, as he would have.

There were flashes, times when she'd shown mercy that he would not have. If it was wise or not he didn't know - but if she'd shown questionable judgement a few times, it was nothing to the allies she'd gathered. Lord Caylia's resourcefulness and grasp of Sith politics was hard won, only after deadly trials on Korriban and a life on the outside had she learned to be so proactive in her own defense. He could only begin to guess about what she foresaw as a threat. The Lord Rathari said on Nar Shaddaa that she was eventually eclipse her master, but Quinn wondered about that - Lord Baras was far strong and more influential than Caylia could manage without similar ties throughout the Empire. 

The Padawan came to her, after she'd broken Nomen Karr. Once he was down, Quinn watched the corruption ruin the once smug face of the man who could look no higher than Caylia's boots. "Master Karr?" The girl's broken voice and confusion might have made another crow in triumph, but Caylia wore a look of concern.

It was only her voice that seemed to rouse him from his insensible, hateful diatribe about Sith and Baras. "Jaesa, no! Stupid child. I told you to stay put." Quinn frowned as Karr turned his ugliness on Jaesa Willsaam. Apparently none were to be spared from his clumsy insults.

But it was too late for Karr to protect Jaesa from anything further, not even himself. She'd already seen his face, and once she tried her hand at fighting Caylia, she stopped to consider. The young woman had used her power, and saw reflected in her Caylia's true nature what he found most confusing and alluring about her. Quinn felt a rush of pride when she stood unafraid to be judged, so certain of herself. Mercy and compassion surprised Jaesa, just as he was kept on his toes by whenever the qualities surfaced within Caylia. 

Though she was Sith and he'd seen her fight and kill - she always tried not to harm people when there was no need. Whereas he would have killed Jaesa's parents and used their deaths to draw her out, Caylia's plan of making them defect, creating loyal Imperial subjects from lowly Republic servants was much better and more satisfying than their deaths. They walked away of their own accord, the guise of free will more tempting than any threat. The promise of riches and an end to servitude was a more subtle seduction, a masterstroke he applauded once he fully understood the brilliance of it. Baras had certainly been impressed by her methods. 

But to stand unafraid and be judged - the act wasn't something that Quinn could ever be brave enough to submit himself to endure. He was true to the Empire and worked ever in their favor, but he'd made so many mistakes. There was no telling what darkness he hid even from himself, and he harbored a hate for Moff Broysc that threatened to burn through him. Letting Jaesa see all of that wasn't something that he would ever consider.

Caylia didn't flinch. The difference between her and the so-called Jedi Karr was astounding. His lord, the one he followed truly with all his heart, she who let the ruined Nomen Karr go back to the Jedi Council, was the one that led the padawan from the building. Karr never stood a chance.


	12. Jaesa

Master Caylia was different than she'd expected when the woman had began hunting her, and even more so once she joined her ship. The Sith was dangerous, yes, but dedicated and passionate. She'd reminded Jaesa that revolutions began not with talk but action, and that they would need to work together, gathering allies to make real change. Jaesa was all for change.

The biggest difference between Nomen Karr and Caylia was that while Karr touted the virtues of distance and compassion, Caylia was just the opposite. Her passions fueled her when she fought, and she was swept into a righteous anger that made her lethal as she cleaved through her opponents. Emotion, what the Jedi were so ardently against was evident in every move she made, even off the battlefield. She was friends with the people under her command, and took her place as a Sith Lord seriously, reprimanding people that didn't show her proper respect.

For all her severity, she wasn't devoid of compassion. It was quite the opposite. The Jedi had taught her that the Sith were ruthless, but Caylia was merciful and thoughtful in her deliberations. She weighed them carefully, taking time before she spoke, and assessing her options. The only time she'd seen her master get it wrong was on Taris.

The moment had been tense, Darth Baras had been giving orders to Captain Quinn over the holocom and Lieutenant Pierce had been assigned to join them. Quinn was rattling off his suggestions with his usual methodical precision, when Jaesa had picked up a hint of annoyance from Caylia. It wasn't obvious, but Jaesa was attuned to the nature of people, and could feel the shift in the air. She hadn't wanted to give Quinn anything, and they were at odds. Jaesa found herself trying to figure out Republic systems to stop reinforcements instead of fighting alongside her master. It was pride, stubbornness and a hint of irritation that resulted in the bad call, and all of those emotions had been directed at Quinn.

It bothered her that she had become a point of contention in a what seemed a private battle of wills. Once her duty was done, she mentioned it to Caylia.

"I'm sorry, Jaesa. I should have known you'd pick up on that." The Sith surprised her again by admitting and apologizing right away. "I sometimes bristle when given orders, and it felt like Baras and Quinn had kept me out of the loop. Sometimes I expect..." She trailed off, not sure what to say. "I guess my feelings got in the way."

"I can understand you being upset. Your master demands much of you, and tells you very little." Jaesa offered, but then found the courage to say more. "And you expect much from Captain Quinn."

"I care for Quinn, and sometimes I forget that he also answers to Baras. In my mind, it's just he and I commanding this little ship, and Darth Baras is just a holoimage far away on Dromund Kaas." Caylia smiled, a private, sweet smile that wasn't intended for Jaesa, but rather came from thinking of Quinn.

Jaesa didn't take her abilities lightly, and she hadn't looked into Quinn to see what he held. She hadn't needed to, under that military calm he was a morass of emotions. Confident in his own abilities professionally, but insecure personally and more than a little astonished that their lord even was interested in him. Awed by her power, confused by her mercy and entranced by her overall. That he was in love with Lord Caylia was a given. No one needed the ability to read people to see that.

"Maybe one day it will be as you say, master. He would serve you well, as would I."

"Jaesa, I have no doubt of that." Caylia answered.


	13. Spiny Orange Passion

Having Lieutenant Pierce join the crew made Caylia undeniably happy for a reason that Quinn couldn't fathom. He'd seen her flirting with the man, and though he hadn't liked it, there was nothing he could say. They had no claim to each other, despite his feelings for her and she'd done the same when they'd first met on Balmorra. Perhaps it was a lost chance, her attraction to him dissolved when presented with a partner that would have less qualms about mixing duty and pleasure.

Or maybe he simply didn't understand Lord Caylia at all, which is what he thought more often than not. She wasn't an easily definable person by any sort of means, but even as it frustrated him, Quinn couldn't deny that it was part of her appeal.

She seemed made of contradictions. temperance and wisdom and rush decisions and raw power. Though she'd taken Jaesa Willsaam as her own apprentice, there had been no attempts to instruct her in the ways of the Sith, to change her at all. They seemed to talk of different things, Caylia coming out of their sessions looking contemplative. For her part, Jaesa had taken to asking questions of Caylia in front of the whole group, so they all may benefit from her wisdom.

"Master, I am confused. I know we've spoken before about this, and I have spent much time pondering the subject alone. How can you say passion gives you power when I've seen your mercy and compassion in action?" They were all sitting together, taking the one meal a day that Caylia asked them to eat as a group. 

For the most part, she didn't govern their free time, but she did insist on group interaction. It was crucial to keeping morale up, she said. Quinn didn't disagree, but the more time he spent with the group, the more he was aware that he didn't really fit in. That day she sat next to him on the couch, carefully peeling a spiny orange as he read through the latest news reports. Spiny oranges were a delicacy, if they could be opened. He'd never acquired the knack for it himself, but Caylia seemed determined.

"Compassion and passion are not strictly opposites, Jaesa." Caylia answered firmly. "They are not mutually exclusive and can exist in the same being at once. Is that what the Jedi teach? That passion will consume compassion?"

"Passion unchecked is dangerous and misleading. It is the opposite of peace." Jaesa recited.

"Perhaps in some instances it is, but there are more to emotions than just categorizing them as bad or good. Passion is as useful as compassion, given the right circumstances."

"Don't the Jedi like a little spice in their fights?" Pierce asked.

"No." Jaesa shook her head. "Fighting is only a last resort, when peace cannot be achieved. It is a somber event, and best done with a clear head."

It looked like the whole of the group was about to argue with Jaesa, but Caylia held up a hand. "Let me tell you a story about my past." She began, not needing to raise her voice to make it more authoritative.

"When I was seventeen, I nearly died. I caught a strain of disease that only effects people with certain gene sequencing, and then only one in a hundred. Instead of finishing school, I was sent to my grandmother. She worked as a medic at a remote outpost and could oversee my recuperation. I was technically helping the Empire, cataloging her work, but it was my only chance to recover outside of becoming research myself."

"I had no idea." Vette murmured. "You said you'd been sick, but I didn't know it was that bad."

"It was. I had to lay in bed all day for weeks. After that, my muscles had atrophied and doing something as simple as standing hurt. I had no desire to endure more pain after a prolonged illness, so my recovery was slow." Caylia explained, just as she got the last of the spiny orange peel open. Quinn watched her deftly take the peel off, moving in a pattern that came from experience, the knowledge stored in her fingers.

"What finally helped me was oranges, just like this one." She said. "The market began to get more food in, once the season changed and it got easier to traverse the roads. I liked the oranges, but my grandmother didn't have time to go and get them every week. I began to go in her stead. At first, it was daunting and tiring, the walk took me an hour when it would have taken someone else a third of the time." Caylia smiled as she held up the unpeeled orange, the strong, citrusy scent reaching all of them.

She began to separate it into slices, the peel discarded. The droid rushed over to take care of it, noting that it could be 'hazardous' to others if they tried to pick it up. Quinn knew from experience that the tiny needles could stick in the skin and require medical assistance getting them out. He'd done it once for a private back on Balmorra, who'd picked one up not knowing the harm it could cause.

"I got better, and stronger because I wanted this." She held up the pieces of the orange in the palm of her hand, displaying the juicy flesh. "Not because of it alone, nothing works alone. But I wanted it and I had to get it myself. That desire, that small passion, drove me."

Caylia got up and walked around the table, all eyes following her. She gave each of them a piece of the orange, sharing it with them, inviting them to take part in her passion. When she reached the couch again, she stood over Quinn until he met her eyes, and she held out her hand offering two slices to him. He took them with a nod of thanks, wanting to look away from her, but unable.

When she took her seat again, he could feel breath filling his chest once more. With her attention diverted from him, he took the smaller of the two slices of orange and popped it in his mouth. The taste was immediate, warm and tropical, intense and slightly earthy, sweet and tangy. Hidden flavors revealed themselves as he chewed slowly, the pulp exploding in his mouth, under his tongue and against his teeth with each bite. There was no other taste like a Spiny Orange, but they were expensive and seasonal. Caylia must have truly wanted them to go through so much trouble in the middle of her recovery, but he could understand the desire that drove it.

"Passion is not a weakness, Jaesa. Surely, now that you know my fondness for these oranges, you could use it against me, exploit it somehow. But I will always have been stronger because of them."

Jaesa bowed her head. "You give me much to ponder, master. Thank you."

Pierce spoke up after devouring the tiny slices of orange that Caylia had given him. "You should teach us how to open those oranges too, my lord. Last time I tried, I had those spines stuck in my gauntlet for a week and I still managed to get stuck."

Caylia smiled. "I might consider it." She said, but Malavai didn't think she would. This was her passion, only briefly shared, but he was better for knowing it.


	14. Crystallized Amber

He smiled at her, a brief, fleeting smile as he looked up from a report to meet her eyes, but it made her whole day. Quinn's smile was as rare as crystallized amber, and whenever he bestowed one upon her, it warmed her. 

There hadn't even been a flash of teeth, but it was a sweet, familiar grin. The kind given unthinkingly to friends when you notice them, the type that manifested when there was no time to say much more than hello. He'd lowered his eyes as soon as she'd smiled back, his thick, dark lashes obscuring the blue eyes she liked so much. Despite his demeanor, his eyes were never cold. He was distant at times, the space between them reflected in his eyes, but they were truly the measure of him. Whenever he grew angry or irritated, they flared, and the few times he laughed it started as a spark within his eyes. 

Caylia wondered about him. There were the usual questions, about his life before they met, his background, what he did besides reading the Imperial census for fun. She wanted to know more than that - it was more like a desire to truly understand him. True, her feelings for Captain Quinn did play into her interest, but once sparked the questions were viable. What was he like when he wasn't on the bridge with her? Which of his parents did he look like more? He never spoke of them at all, but then again, he wasn't very forthcoming with information about himself.

And why he didn't smile more, even to himself? She laughed alone all the time, so much that Toovee often came to inquire if she needed anything. Not that she expected the same from Quinn, with all his self-restraint and discipline. But smiling was a different matter. He rarely smiled at all, and she didn't think it was because he was unhappy in some way.

Maybe he'd just had so little to smile about for the past ten years, he'd gotten out of practice.

But he smiled for her, more than once in conversation and just then as they worked together. Whatever it was that made him send that tiny, distracted little smile her way she was grateful for it.


	15. Major Ovech

Captain Quinn was the damn nicest thing he'd seen in days, even if his vision was going hazy with pain as he recognized his former comrade in arms. Most of his officers were along with him, which meant that his ship had been saved from Broysc's commandos - and he was sure it was Quinn's doing. 

For his part Ovech couldn't wait to get off Cato Neimoidia and report back to the Empire. Moff Broysc wouldn't pay for this, not directly, but he wasn't going to let this slide. Recovery would be a long and slow process, he could feel the blaster burns blistering across his skin under his ruined uniform, but Broysc wouldn't be free of him yet. He hated that incompetent excuse for a Moff. The man in front of him - saving his life - should have surpassed the major's own rank, but instead had just be promoted back to what he'd lost.

Quinn knelt down next to him, a kolto probe summoned and already taking the worst of his pain away before he even spoke. "Major Ovech, sir. Reporting for temporary reassignment. Lord Caylia sends her regards."

"You are a sight, Captain. Best thing I've seen in a long while." Ovech said gratefully. "I thought we were done for down here."

"Your ship has been recovered, and most of your crew is fine. They're securing the area now, and we'll be able to get back to the ship once you're stabilized."

"Ah. Thank you, I know it was your doing. You're going to have to tell me later about how you bested a full team of Broysc's commandos. But right now, I have to admit I want to know about her, your Sith. If she let you go, she either trusts you completely or wants you gone. It seemed more like the first." Ovech said. Had he been well, his face would have formed into a smirk. It had been a long time since he'd teased Malavai Quinn, an officer that was more like a little brother or a nephew to him. He'd been incensed when he found out about Quinn's court-martial. 

Quinn laughed, falling into their old routine easily. "Lord Caylia isn't my Sith at all. I daresay I am her captain, but we have no claim to each other. She simply understands me, and granted me the latitude to come and save you."

"Spare me the bull, Quinn, I'm covered in blaster burns from head to toe. There's a beautiful, powerful Sith on that ship who thinks so highly of you she mentioned it during our short conversation. Indulge my curiosity - think of it as distracting the patient."

A flicker of a smile crossed the captain's face. "She is a remarkable woman, and as you say, quite beautiful. It's an honor to serve with her."

"Is that all?"

"There is nothing between us at the moment, but she makes me wish it were otherwise."

"Why isn't there?" Ovech grunted as Quinn lifted his arm, testing the tender, healing flesh. 

"You're going to need to go in the tank once I fix all this up. The medical bay appeared to be intact when I infiltrated your ship."

"I'm going to see you get a commendation for that after you answer the question."

"It's not appropriate, nor in the best interest of the Empire. She is my superior, and I worry that any involvement would compromise her missions. I already worry for her."

"Risks are never going to be safe Quinn, you just have to be brave. Is she worth it?"

Quinn thought for a second, his mind distracted but his hands kept their pace, never ceasing in their healing. He loved her, cared for her, found her funny and kind - virtues he hadn't realized he appreciated until they met. She knew how to make him smile, when to trust instinct and when to listen to her mind. Together, they would be powerful, a neigh unstoppable force in the Empire. He wanted that - but more he just wanted to spend time with her as more than just captain and lord.

"Yes, Major. She is. On your feet now." He said, shouldering most of the other man's bulk as they both stood upright.

"Let me know when you get married." Ovech joked, making himself rasp with weak laughter that caused him to wince in pain. But Quinn didn't think marriage sounded that far-fetched at all.


	16. Pierce

What Lord Caylia ever saw in Captain Quinn was a mystery to Pierce. He tried not to think about it too often, but he couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy when she went first to the uptight Captain for his opinion, or sought him out whenever she needed help with a mission.

Pierce wasn't going to be that guy for her, and that was fine, even if he was a little disappointed that her flirting wouldn't lead to anything. The ship was a nice change from Taris, and he found himself in good company most of the time. He wanted to get to know Lord Caylia. He still liked her as a person, even if her taste in men was rubbish. 

"My lord, we talked about it before, but you never elaborated. What was the Sith Academy like? I bet you've got plenty of stories about Korriban." He asked one day, as they all sat around together. Lord Caylia liked to have them spend time together, not working. It suited him fine to take a little downtime on the ship, and it was usually amusing. Vette would argue with Quinn, or Jaesa would ask her master questions so they could all benefit from her wisdom. Once Caylia had horrified Quinn by hopping out in her pajamas and asking Jaesa to use the Force to remove a glass splinter from her foot. He could still hear Vette's ringing laughter in his memories of that incident. They weren't exactly regulation on the ship, but it served them well.

They were above Hoth. Caylia had taken a few injuries planetside and preferred to recover on her ship rather than on the icy rock below. They still had business, but it was delayed a few days. He and Vette had returned from doing some of the outside missions they were sometimes sent on and he was glad to be back onboard.

She grimaced at the mention of the Sith Academy. "I survived." She said simply.

"I've wondered about it too, master." Jaesa mused. "There are tales of it within the Jedi."

"I would never send you there, Jaesa." Caylia said quickly, defensive of her apprentice. "It would not be the place for someone of your disposition. It would be too...dispiriting."

"Dispiriting is one way to put it. Creepy is another." Vette said, shivering.

"You were there as well?" Jaesa asked.

"I was a prisoner there, not a guest. Turns out the Sith are really strict about people breaking into their tombs."

Pierce watched with some amusement as Quinn turned from red to puce in mere seconds fueled by his outrage, before Lord Caylia put an arm across his chest as if to restrain him. She gave him a look that clearly said to calm down, and the captain gave a curt nod. She dropped her arm before she continued.

"Vette was essential in helping me complete my time there. Without her knowledge of the tombs, I wouldn't have been able to complete my task for Lord Baras and become his apprentice."

The Twi'lek beamed at the compliment. "You're welcome, my lord." She said, Caylia acknowledging it with a playful look of long-suffering.

"It was always a test, a competition. When I arrived, I was told another student was my enemy and that I would have to kill him to survive. Eventually, I did." Caylia said. She normally avoided speaking of Vemrin, and Tremel for that matter, but didn't want them to think she was avoiding the question.

"Was that the one that was waiting to ambush us?" Vette asked.

"Yes." Caylia said. "I killed many people and things to earn my place. In the end, it made me understand what it is to be Sith, but it was a harsh education. Tougher I think, because of the abruptness of it. Most acolytes aren't confined to Korriban for rush training, but I was a pawn in a bigger game." She frowned, thinking back on Tremel and Baras, and how after she'd killed Tremel she had to kill his daughter too. The memory made her heart sink.

"My lord, I am sure you acquitted yourself admirably at the academy." Quinn interjected, hoping to end the conversation. He was adverse to anything that caused Caylia discomfort, and aware of how little she talked of her time on Korriban. "You needn't divulge Sith information to non-Force users, if you deem it unnecessary."

That made Caylia smile for the first time since the conversation began, and Quinn smiled back at her. It was clear that it was meant solely for Caylia, the two of them sharing an understanding, a connection that everyone else in the conversation was excluded from.

According to Vette, they weren't together, at least not in any meaningful way. The way they were looking at each other, Pierce had to wonder how much longer that would last.


	17. Compromised

"I am compromised. Thoughts of you have begun to...distract me." 

Well, she'd been compromised back on Balmorra, when she'd met him. Caylia wasn't overly romantic, but she felt the pull towards the handsome military officer back when she'd first met him. It was more than want, though that had played a large part in the matter, especially when they first met. She just felt like she knew him, and perhaps in a way she did, having met men like him her whole life through her parents. Quinn felt like home, even with all the surprises in his past and constant rigidity that ruled his interactions.

He'd brought it up before, but she didn't want to pressure him. Though he claimed to be drawn to her, he wasn't ready for a relationship that coincided so closely with his duties. She got that. Too many times in her past, she'd seen subordinates pressured into some form of relationship by someone with power, and that wasn't at all what she had in mind. So she left it at that she was interested, and aside from the occasional flirt, let him be. 

When they kissed, Caylia almost sighed, because the feeling was so very much what she expected it to be. Electric, heat and desire running through the both of them, but more than that. Soft lips were demanding against her own, and she could feel his restraint even then, as he gave in. It was after they parted that she put her finger on the elusive feeling that had laced through their kiss. It was just right, they fit. All of the men in her past felt like practice leading up to that one kiss.

Her hand had been pinned against his chest, and she could feel him, heart beating beneath his uniform sending lifeblood to every part of him. Was it possible that she could feel the force of it, intangible and powerful as it radiated through him? Malavai Quinn, right up against her, a kiss laden with pent-up longing landing on her lips.

She could taste him - he tasted of the rage he was starting to let go of that wore the name 'Moff Broysc', the hesitation and insecurity because so many years had passed since he'd wanted to kiss anyone this way, and the earnestness underneath it all.

Yes, she was thoroughly compromised.


	18. The Wrath

Quinn was beside himself when he realized what Baras had done. She'd nearly died, and he wasn't there to save her. Not that she needed him, but he was there to heal, and could have perhaps done more to keep her from falling. It didn't matter at the moment because Caylia was back on the ship, mostly safe from further harm. She was resting in her quarters now, but he needed to check on her. It was his understanding that her injuries were severe, but mostly treated. He didn't trust that analysis and wanted to see for himself, and apologize for not being there for her.

He also wanted the distraction. Anything to get away from the bridge. Moff Broysc must have found out that he was off Balmorra after he'd rescued Major Ovech. There was no way to keep it secret forever.

The Moff was sending recorded holomessages that were nothing but nonsensical, abusive tirades. He promised to kill Quinn painfully for daring to diminish his 'glory'. At first, he'd just deleted them, but they came more often now, and he was afraid that the Moff was going to start calling the ship himself if he ignored them for too long. Going to check on Caylia was good, he could assist her recovery and get away from his own problems for a while.

He stood outside and waited for her to answer the summons to her door, wondering if her injuries were hampering her speed. Caylia had seemed alright when she returned to the ship, and the Emperor's Hands had assured them that she'd gotten medical treatment down on Quesh. It worried him that it was taking her this long to answer.

Just as he was thinking about a lingering injury and what might have happened in that mine, the door slid open. "Oh, Quinn, have you come to check on me?" She smiled brightly up at him, pleased that he'd thought to look in on her.

It took him a moment to regain control of his faculties. She hadn't been slowed down by the attack planetside. Oh no. She'd been in the refresher, her skin luminous and wet in places. An errant droplet of water wound its way down her neck, and he had to stop his eyes from following its trail once it disappeared.

Wet hair hung down past her shoulders, loose from the high ponytail he had never seen her without. It was long and thick, dark as his own hair but unlike his, it had a gentle wave to it when wet. Her face was free of makeup, and she looked younger than her twenty-nine years without it. Caylia wasn't dressed, she was wearing a short, black silk robe that tied around the waist, the fringe of the sash hanging longer than the robe itself. It only seemed to come to the middle of her thighs.

It was the type of thing that only a lover might see. The way a body was covered when the prospect of being undressed was imminent. He had to avert his gaze; otherwise he wouldn't be able to stop staring. They weren't quite there yet - one kiss on the bridge didn't mean she'd want him to pull that sash until it hung slack and the robe fluttered open and the door shut behind him. One kiss didn't entitle him to more, especially not a trail of kisses down her neck as he freed her from the loose confines of the robe and led her to the bed so he could see how beautiful she'd look beneath him. But one kiss had already ignited that flame that brought forth the thoughts, the desire to feel her lips and skin beneath his in a way he couldn't before.

Quinn took a step back, before he could reach out a finger and trace the path left by the bead of water and press his tongue to her damp skin so he might lick where the trail of water ended. He desperately wanted to find the endpoint and work his way up, to nibble at her collarbone as the heavy curtain of her hair dried around them. The uniform he so proudly wore grew tight and uncomfortable against his skin, and he itched to be out of it. He wanted to leave it on a heap on her floor, and lose himself for days in worship of her perfect curves. They were so tantalizingly close, guarded only by black silk, begging for exploration by his hands. Despite what they'd shared, they weren't intimate yet, much to his lamentation at that moment. He still had duties and other distractions, but none as lovely as a half-dressed Caylia.

"I just wanted to see if you were well after your encounter on Quesh, my lord. But I see all is well, and I don't want to disturb you. I'll head back to my duties." He rattled off, not giving her a chance to interrupt. Before he could glimpse the dismayed frown that formed on her face, he was heading back towards the bridge at a sprint. A call from Moff Broysc would have almost been welcomed right about then.


	19. Admiral Malcontent

He'd thought he could deal with the messages and recordings himself, but when Moff Broysc started contacting the ship at random hours and shouting nonsensically at him, Quinn knew he had to tell Caylia. She had a way with people, a persuasion he lacked and could back it up with power and influence. She was Sith, where for all his dedication and skill he was not and still bound by rules as a subordinate to a Moff.

Privately, it incensed him to be so ineffective in dealing with what should have been a personal matter. His problems with the Moff were his own and although from the little he'd divulged to Caylia she seemed to share his opinion, he was loathe to bring her into it. When he had to explain the nickname the Moff had bestowed upon him, he bile bit the back of his throat and he willed it to stay down. Admiral Malcontent. No one should be content with an Empire that let the crazed Broysc continue to lead troops into crucial battles. He could live with that title if it meant that he was the one to end the reign of ineptitude that marred Broysc's commands.

In the end, there was nothing either he or Lord Caylia could do. When he complained officially, he met stony silences and shrugs of indifference. 'It's Moff _Broysc_ that's how he is', they'd said, with an emphasis not on the title but the name as if he were a legend to be told instead of avoided. No one but Caylia stood with him, and with Darth Baras blackening her name to all within shouting range, her statement was dubious support at best.

He wouldn't even get into how that made him feel. After years of unfailingly loyal service to Baras, to be cast aside without so much as a word confused and worried Quinn. He couldn't help but harbor a nugget of regret within his anger about the way things had turned out. They had much history together, but he would never understand the Sith and their power plays. He wasn't surprised that Baras had thought only Caylia worth killing, but he wondered at the plan for the rest of the crew. Had they been declared useful resources or simply fodder?

That wasn't his fight. His fight had led him to track down Moff Broysc on R&R while his troops fought in battle. That bitter truth filled his mouth with a taste like blood and ashes and brought Malavai back to the present. He sat, or rather crouched, on a pleasure barge waiting for the man himself. He'd been waiting hours, but hadn't wanted to risk being seen by the Hutt that sat on the large pedestal overseeing the gaming lounge where the Moff was surrounded by dancing Twi'leks and crystal goblets of Corellian Red. Quinn's legs and thighs protested the long passage of time in the uncomfortable position, but his mind was occupied.

Caylia; he thought of her to pass the time, to aid his focus. He served her with no regrets. If this was the winding, twisting path his life had to take to serve her, then so be it. Perhaps when all of this was done and there was no more unfinished business waiting for him, no more decade-old scores to settle, then he might let himself take some time with her. It would be a break sorely needed and much anticipated.

For now, he entertained himself with thoughts, memories of her battle-fierce and glowing with rage, of her soft and wet with hair streaming down her back. He thought about the bits of her past that she shared with them, and how it made her a formidable woman, an enemy so savvy she might just be the underdog that beat the entrenched Baras. That would be a sight to see, and he wanted to be at her side when it happened. Quinn occupied his mind thinking of how he might distract her from her constant battles, should she let him. There was a reckoning due between the two of them, long in the making and recently stoked by their interactions - that kiss, the sight of her skin, fantasies he could no longer ignore. It was all loaded, every look and word that passed between them until there could be nothing but a breathless conclusion.

A sound louder than his own inhalations was like assault cannon fire in his ears, though it was just the footfalls of an inebriated Moff, heading back to his quarters at last. Quinn readied himself, in case Broysc wasn't alone or put up more of a fight than he expected. His mind was clear and he had no doubts - this had to be done for the good of the Empire. Just this one last thing, and he could put his shame and Admiral Malcontent to rest once and for all.

"You!" Moff Broysc wasn't as drunk as he seemed, because his eyes lit with recognition when Quinn stepped out of the shadows.

"Yes, me." Quinn growled as he sprayed the moff with carbonite. It was for an easier trip back to the ship he'd told himself, trying not to acknowledge the gratification he found in watching Broysc turn from human into statuary. He would let a cooler head than his preside over this ending. Caylia could decide what would become of Moff Broysc, although it would be a great relief if she let Quinn do the honors.


	20. All I Need

The ship was quiet as Caylia headed towards the bridge to do a late check, though her official duties were done for the day. Most of her crew was dispersed off to do other things, save for Jaesa and Quinn. Jaesa had just returned from a diplomatic mission and was resting and Quinn - well he hadn't much to say since the incident with Moff Broysc.

She'd let things run their course and in the end he had his revenge. Besides telling her that the body had been disposed of, they hadn't spoken of it. Since then, he'd been quiet and contemplative and Caylia hadn't wanted to push him. It had been a long time coming between him and Broysc. She imagined that it would be similar to the ending that was building between her and Baras.

"Oh Captain, you're here." Caylia said in surprise, looking up to find Quinn on the bridge. She didn't know why she was surprised to see him, with so few of them onboard the two of them had been taking alternate shifts. Caylia thought it helped him to calm himself, to be alone with his work and she had no desire to push her presence on him when he had so much on his mind. She too had much to think about, her contact with the Emperor's Hands had increased and once her crew reassembled, they would head to the planet of Belsavis.

"My lord, I wish to speak to you." Quinn drew himself up as she moved closer. "I'm fielding reports from across Imperial forces. Among the men there is universal relief that Moff Broysc is no more."

So this was the long awaited talk about Moff Broysc? Caylia had been sure that Quinn had been working something out in his mind, but at that moment he seemed to simply be glad that the Moff was gone and the Empire served. She was almost ready to tune out when he gave her a looked that pierced, his face growing more serious.

"I don't feel conflicted in the least, not about anything, including you." The observation that he'd in deep though had proven true, but it had been about her - their relationship - rather than focused on Broysc. She was surprised but no less pleased by the pronouncement, especially when capped with a kiss and an offer to show her "how serious" he was.

The hand on the small of her back insistently steered her towards her own quarters but when she listened, Caylia could hear Quinn shakily drawing in his breath. It was almost a comfort that he was as nervous as she. She wasn't new to this, but the tension that had built between her and Quinn placed unspoken demands on the long awaited culmination to their flirting. She almost felt like taking the rest of the day and tomorrow as time due to the two of them. If only they had more time - but wasn't that what this was about, making the most of the time they had? The door opened and swooshed shut behind them, and she felt Quinn's hand slide from the small of her back to her hip as she turned to face him.

Her hand crept up behind his head to pull him closer. It was odd - normally she didn't register the height difference between them. She felt her stature most days, but Quinn stood over her by several inches, the breadth of the hard expanse of his chest covered by his uniform, wider than she was. The odd feeling of petiteness was compounded when his arms wrapped around her as he bent into her kiss. Caylia liked the sensation of being dwarfed, being covered by his body.

Their kiss was long and passionate, a melding of her mouth against his. His tongue sought hers out, with soft, wet touches as they met. She ran her fingers through his hair, hoping that she could remember all the sensations, the softness of the strands between her fingers, the heat of his mouth, the hardness of his body against hers.

"Captain." Caylia began to pull away, about to suggest a place where she could better appreciate the hand roving over her thighs and arse, but Quinn pulled her back with a fiercer touch than she'd expected.

When they broke apart again, she drew in a steadying breath and began to speak. "Captain Qui-" was all she got out before he kissed her again. This time the kiss was more pointed, intended to cut her off and she smiled against his lips as she realized why.

"Quinn." She said, this time getting it right.

He smiled down at her, his hand cupping her face. "Isn't it time we dispense with the formalities?"

"So right now you're just Quinn and I'm simply Caylia?" She asked, more to herself than to him, but he gave her a smile that sent warmth radiating through her already heated skin. "That fits." She conceded. "Perhaps we should disarm before we go any further."

He didn't answer, but took his blaster from the holster and she stepped back to unhook the heavy belt that carried her saber and shield generator. Caylia looked away from him, busying herself with the trivialities that she was sure would have taken care of itself had she not said anything. Nervousness made her skin tingle, her ears pricked to every sound as she moved away from Quinn and put the belt in its proper place. Honestly, Caylia couldn't put her finger on why she was so stiff and formal now, when she'd been playfully whispering to him since Balmorra. She tried not to think too hard about it as she took off her gauntlets and toed off her boots, pushing them out of the way with the side of her foot. There was more, but she didn't want to be completely bare, not yet.

Before she could turn back to face him, he was behind her. The heat radiating from his body was like a furnace and she leaned into him, letting him slip an arm around her waist. Twisting in his embrace, she turned to face him, reaching up for another kiss. His lips were soft against her own, but almost devouring in their desire.

Words were lost between them then, as was the strange nervousness that had taken up residence within her. She let Quinn lead her to her own bed, pulled atop him with all of her clothes on, as if they weren't sure how this would end. They tumbled onto the mattress together sharing a soft laugh as their limbs collided, more excitement and the release of apprehension than amusement. With giggles still on her breath, Quinn closed his mouth over hers again, insistent lips convincing her to abandon all awkwardness. His kisses eased her thoughts away as she concentrated on giving as good as she got. He seemed to have a million hands, enough to smooth and caress every available inch of her skin as he lay beneath her.

What started out as kisses and soft touches descended quickly into her biting his lower lip, both sets of hands groping - she pulling at his uniform and belt and he squeezing the curve of her ass as one kiss melded into another. The quiet apprehension that had slowed Caylia was long since abandoned, as was any restraint binding Quinn. They twisted together, trying to undo clothes in the desperation to reach each other. Caylia unbuttoned his jacket only to be thwarted by more clothes underneath, and decided to focus on disrobing herself. But Quinn pressed her into the bed and halted her progress, not just with his hands and lips, but hips and shoulders, a stockinged foot running up the inside of her leg. It was a feast for the ravenous, and she was pinned beneath him by his mouth on her neck, her hands frantically working to free him from his trousers. Skin, she needed skin to touch, more than just his face and hands. He kissed along her jaw towards her mouth, a moan muffled by his lips. Why had they lived so long apart?

Caylia hissed through her teeth - a sound of appreciation and surprise as his mouth closed around a nipple she hadn't realized was exposed. Her clothes were half off of her, parts bared just enough to make satisfaction frustrating. She wiggled and inched out of her clothes as much as she could without stopping, because she did not want him to stop what he was doing under any circumstances, Quinn pressing a hand to her back to keep her from moving too far from him. When she was finally undressed - with some help from his hands, he as ready as she was to have her out of her clothes - Quinn simply stood up and shed his with swift, precise movements. Had she the presence of mind to be embarrassed, she might have been, especially when he quirked an amused smile at her sprawled on the bed, before his eyes turned dark and focused once more.

When he stood, she'd made a sound of protest at his removal from the reach of her hands, but once he came back Caylia found she didn't know quite what to do with them. She wanted them to reach everywhere, to touch him and make damn sure this was all very real, not just another dream. And so she did, she let her fingertips trail down the centerline of Quinn's chest, admiring her bronze skin against the fairness of his own. Her hand rested, just paused over his heart, feeling the beat of his life beneath her hand. She felt the thrum increase as he leaned in for another kiss, and slid her hand up over the wide breadth of his shoulders until it landed in the thick hair just above the nape of his neck.

"Quinn." She breathed, between kisses and caresses. She found herself repeating it in the same soft, breathy tone as he kissed more of her, a hand between her legs to tease.

Widening the space between her legs, she let his fingers work, carefully, ever so methodically. He learned her pleasure in moans and sighs, deciphering the shudders and stillness. When he'd gotten her rhythm, Quinn captured the peak of her breast once more, and Caylia closed her eyes and just simply felt it all. Mind blank, she let him lead her, hips rising softly in time to the thrust of his fingers within her, the softness of her thigh grazing his devilishly hard erection. With every errant touch, he too moaned.

It didn't last. She buckled and spasmed around his fingers, giving a choked cry as she came. His fingers didn't completely abandon her afterwards, but circled her clit slowly as he kissed her lips and overheated skin. Bliss rolled through her, blanketing her body with its heavy-handed reward, making everything feel sparkling good in those few moments.

Caylia refused to be idle, not when Quinn was still hard and kissing her. As good as his hand had been, there was more. They rolled together, she kissing him hard against his lips and the stubble along his jaw, and he giving it right back as she pinned him beneath her. He smiled up at her, a grin she couldn't help be return, looking at him framed against the backdrop of her disheveled sheets. It was a magnificent sight.

"Take down your hair." He whispered to her, a hand clasping the back of her neck.

She obliged without question, letting her hair out of her ponytail and letting it spill down her shoulders. It would be a mess of tangles, but she was gone, so far beyond caring. He pulled her to him for a kiss as they righted themselves, her knees folded under her. There was nothing between them now, no clothes or artifice to muddy the interpretation and Caylia could read him clearly, the adoration and lust in his every move, the want bathed in the blue of his eyes.

And then, the tip of his cock was wet with her and he pushed up, just as she moved carefully downward, her hand around his shaft to guide. They both sighed, as he hilted himself, but his was lower, darker and rumbled throughout the both of them, deep vibrations against her skin, in the pit of his belly.

It wasn't leisurely, but not hurried either. It took them a while to find their pacing together - when she wanted to move fast and hard, he held her hips and moved her in a circle. As the friction was leading her someplace delicious, he picked up speed and changed to harder thrusting, nearly toppling her with his force. But they found their way, Quinn's large hands cupping her heavy breasts, the pads of his thumbs brushing over their hardened ends as Caylia made hard, deliberate pushes against his hips, quick and as deep as she could make them.

Quinn signaled his end by tangling a hand in her hair and drawing her closer, a deep voice that only vaguely sounded like his muttering _"Caylia"_ against her lips. He twitched and she could feel it - the heat of him coming inside of her, just as he breath caught and he let out a prolonged groan. She kissed his chin, the underside of his jaw, his neck as he came, her movements slow and careful.

When he finished, arms wrapped around her and pulled her into a bear hug that ended with another kiss. Even after all they'd just done, it was still heated, as if he wanted to go again in the near future. She could feel his heart thumping against his chest as she laid on top of him, her mouth catching his in another kiss, a softer, sweeter version of his. It was so wonderfully intimate she nearly laughed, because it seemed impossible that they were here, after all this time. But here they were, laying in her bed. Instead of laughter, she accepted his increasingly drowsy kisses with heavy, sleepy eyes and good grace as she let herself slide off him and to the side.

For a long moment, they didn't talk. It was just the two of them, laying together as their breathing returned to normal, arms around each other, eyes closed. Her fingers woke up from their lucid state first, running down his chest and up again, tracing the bisecting line of muscle until he caught her hand and brought it to his lips.

"I suppose that settles it, doesn't it?" He asked, and Caylia cracked open an eye to see Quinn giving her a languid grin.

"Yes, I suppose it does." She agreed into his ear. "I'm quite sure that you're serious now, but I require regular updates. Just to verify the status of our new relationship."

"Of course, my dear." Quinn answered. "I would have nothing less." She closed her eyes and settled against his chest again. He would leave soon, she knew, because he had to get back to the bridge. But the time for duty wasn't at that moment and she let herself be content, his arms around him and his chest her pillow - it was all she needed.


	21. Broonmark

The smaller of the human men smelled like the Sith before the rest of the crew made guesses about their joining. It was obvious, at least to him. Captain Quinn was her mate, and Broonmark accepted this as he did all things that mattered little to him. Vette and Jaesa made whispers about relationships and marriage, but those were trivialities in his eyes.

He had never chosen a bondmate for himself, but he rarely liked his brethren. Certainly, he'd never been in the position to make a lifebond with anyone. He didn't ever want such a thing. But he'd seen the Sith eying the man, and seen him heal her before himself, take hits for her in battle. He could have stayed far back with his blaster pistol, but he always fought at her side. It is good to have a bondmate that can fight, and better one that can heal. Captain Quinn was a sensible choice for the Sith.

All that mattered to him was that they continued to fight. Broonmark was pledged to her, to defeat her enemies and stand at her side. He fought for the Sith Caylia, bloodied his claws for her and considered her a good, fierce partner in battle. He didn't mind the Captain, because he did the healing. As long as he served Caylia, then Broonmark would fight beside him. That was really all that mattered to him.

They didn't normally ask his opinions on such things, but he was there when they were discussing it, even Pierce standing around next to Vette, talking about Captain Quinn and Caylia. Distaste was etched on Pierce's face, but to his credit he'd never tried to hide how he felt about Quinn.

"So what do you think, Broonmark? There's a romance going on right under our noses, between Lord Caylia and the good Captain." Pierce said, informing him as if he didn't already know.

Before he even gave his answer, he was bored of the topic. "It is good. She will fight better when she cares for someone. Sith finds big enemies." He finished, and walked away.

"You know, he has a point." Jaesa said from behind him. "Perhaps this is a benefit we hadn't thought of."

"Yeah well, if he hurts her, I'll put a gun to his head." Pierce promised.

"Here here." Vette agreed.

Broonmark let their voices die out behind him and went to eat in peace. At least they all were loyal, even if they disapproved.


	22. Free Fall

He spent the night with her again after the first time, and twice more after that.  After all their time together, shy smiles and subtly pointed exchanges, the actual falling didn't oblige them by being gradual once acknowledged - it was a free fall.

And he was glad, truly it was more than glad - but he didn't know how a word that effectively captured how he felt. Quinn couldn't remember a time in his life when he'd been freer, happier, or any time when the two feelings had coincided so neatly.

The crew knew about the two of them, but it hadn't upset him when they'd found out. In truth, nothing upset him and he let the ribbing and teasing go with an ease that was new to him. They weren't actually making fun of him for once, but sharing in the happiness he'd created with Caylia. There was no harm in it for any of them, and he hardly noticed the occasional scowl from Pierce.

Even if their relationship was common knowledge, he and Caylia remained professional with each other while on duty, and he respected her even more for that decision. It would have been so easy to descend into a more relaxed standard, but she simply refused and he followed her lead. Their professionalism made him more comfortable in the end, allowing him to savor their intimacies all the more.

"Captain?" Lord Caylia was leaving the bridge, but had turned back to speak. "Will you dine with me tonight in my quarters?"

He really shouldn't - there were reports that needed to be filed, and he hadn't reviewing the files from the last shift that scanned Imperial channels for anomalies. There was so much work to be done, it was frivolous to leave and have a "dinner" that would turn out to be hours long and would probably include alcohol.

But she was beautiful and looking expectantly at him, and technically he had finished his duties for the day. The rest was just extra, the things he'd assigned to himself because they should be done, and to prove his usefulness to a flirtatious Sith Lord that helped him get off Balmorra. He wanted to leave with her now, to hold her face in his hands as he kissed her again and again, until time dwindled into nothing but the moments between kisses as they waited for the inevitable interruption of Toovee bringing their dinner.

Tomorrow, tomorrow he'd write a program that would help refine that ones that already ran along the long range sensors looking for Imperial signals. And there was time now to review that last duty logs - Vette was never very thorough in her note taking.

"Certainly, my lord. I'll be ready in an hour." Quinn replied, feeling delight spread through him when she smiled at his answer. How could he say no?

"I'll see you then, Captain." She said, leaving him alone on the bridge. Quinn hummed to himself as he set the automation that would allow him to leave for dinner, making a few notes here and there as he went, and reading Vette's scant reports with a roll of his eyes.

In all his anticipation for dinner, he never once wondered about the food.


	23. Hurt

Vette was practically holding her up when they came on the ship, not an easy task considering that Caylia outweighed her considerably and was almost all muscle.

"Come on, buddy, we're almost there." Vette grunted as she took the last, staggering steps toward the medbay. There, she set Caylia down on one of the beds, and rushed out to the bridge to get Quinn. She would have preferred Jaesa, but Quinn technically knew more and Jaesa was off on some assignment again. Caylia kept her apprentice busy.

"I need your help." Vette panted once she got there. "She's going to lose consciousness."

Captain Quinn took one look at the Twi'lek, covered in blood and smelling like a fight, and fear flooded through him. If Vette looked this bad, what would Lord Caylia be like? 

He always worried about her, even though he knew it was her purpose to fight in the front lines of battle. She was a warrior, much moreso than himself, covered in heavy armor and trained in the arts that came along with it. Still, there would be a day when it wasn't enough. Quinn ran as fast as he could to the medbay, Vette limping along behind him. 

"My lord, what happened?"

"We were ambushed." Vette said from behind him. "They were trying to take her out especially. She pretty much collapsed after she cut down the last one. I tried to give her a medpack, but I don't know how much good it did."

They were over Tatooine, where Caylia and Vette had been attending a service for Vette's recently deceased mother. He felt badly for the Twi'lek, to find her mother and then lose her before their reunion. He knew the pain of losing a parent too well. But at the moment, there was nothing more important than the two bleeding women in front of him, bruises already starting to form on the small stretches of Caylia's exposed skin. Obviously someone had learned of their plans and had taken advantage of the distraction of a funeral to lay a trap for Caylia.

Quinn's hands were busy, carefully looking over the damage and clearing the blood and dirt from her skin to find her wounds. That damnable planet was nothing but a ball of dust. He would need to undress her to fully heal her, but for the moment, he needed her conscious so he could administer medicine and scan her. Familiar with her armor, he pulled off her boots and unfastened her leggings. They were covered in blood, but not much of it seemed to be her own. Taking her lower armor off would be enough for the moment.

"You did well, Vette." He said absently, rushing around the room to get a pain reliever shot. It was going to be a big one.

"My lord." He said sternly, trying to keep Caylia's attention on him. She groaned, but didn't open her eyes. "You'll need to sit up."

It became obvious that she couldn't, and Quinn put an arm around her to pull her up. She slumped heavily against it, and her breathing was labored, but she opened her eyes. He motioned to Vette, who came over to help despite the burden it placed on her. She didn't complain, and he was impressed with her fortitude.

"Quinn. I think I need medical attention." Caylia said, her normally strong voice much quieter. At least she was still with him.

"My lord, please. I need you awake. Can you do that?" He prepped the shot as quickly as he could.

"You better work fast, Captain." Vette said. She was still watching over Caylia but had managed to start tending to some of her own wounds and looked better for it. She moved out of the way when he came back, leaving him to deal with Caylia on his own.

He could see what she meant. Caylia was going to pass out on him before he could give her the shot, and she needed to be awake. When he came back, she squirmed away from his needle, making feeble protests. She disliked needles, and normally he accommodated her, but this was not the time.

"Stay still, Caylia." He said, sternly. He'd hoped that saying her name would shock her into obedience, but it had no effect. She did not heed his words, and moved away from him. He took the only option he could think of, and wrapped an arm around her to hold her in place. 

Quinn bent his head to hers, and caught her mouth in a kiss. Nothing passionate, just enough to distract her from what his hand was doing as he plunged the needle into her thigh, his thumb depressing steadily. He heard her whimper, then sigh against his mouth as the medication worked instantly. When he pulled away, she looked less pained, her eyes losing their glassy look.

"Still with me?" He asked, his voice low.

"Distraction. You are devious."

"You have no idea, my lord."

She stayed awake just long enough for him to tend to her immediate concerns and scan her, to ensure she wasn't suffering head trauma. There was nothing critical, but she'd been beaten pretty severely, probably the intent of the attack. Vette was still there, in the background. He would see to her and then go back to Caylia, removing the rest of her armor and checking the rest of her wounds. She'd have to spend time in the tank, and he could just imagine her swearing once she got out. Swimming in kolto always managed to make her grumpy.

"You really care for her." Vette said awkwardly. "It's surprising."

"And why would it be surprising?" He asked, regretting the question the moment it was out of his mouth.

"Ow," Vette grit her teeth as he cleaned a nasty gash on her arm. She'd obviously been hit at close range too - he reminded himself to take a look at her blasters and upgrade them for her as a thanks, even if she wouldn't appreciate it. He rewarded exemplary service, especially this kind. "She doesn't seem to follow many rules, and that's what you're all about."

The same thought had occurred to him before, but he wasn't going to admit that to Vette. "It's personal, Vette. Things are different in private."

"I'll say. I don't get kisses when I get healed."

Quinn looked up at her, a horrified look on his face.

"Not that I want any from you. But it was almost sweet, what you did."

He didn't bother to address that, instead focusing on his work so he could get back to Caylia. "You'll be fine. You should rest." He said, turning away from her. "And thank you, for bringing her back."

"Hey, she's my friend. I wasn't going to let her get jumped, not after everything she's done for me." Vette countered indignantly. She softened as she spoke again, an afterthought on her way out the door. "She never says how much she cares for you, but whenever you're around, she lights up. I hope you appreciate her." Vette said, and disappeared out the door.

Quinn stood over Caylia, focused on healing every inch of her. He more than appreciated her, but he would never be able to explain to Vette and didn't care to do so. Some thing just were what they were.


	24. Anniversary

"My lord, I have something for you." Quinn was standing in the door to Caylia's quarters, looking nervous.

"Quinn, what is it?" Caylia sat up in her bed, expecting him to hand her a datapad, or to tell her that someone was asking for her at the holoterminal. Neither was the case, and it surprised her to see that he was fidgeting. "Is everything alright?" She asked, confused.

"Yes, of course. This is a private matter. Caylia." Quinn clarified and then gave her a rueful smile. "You still have a way of unnerving me sometimes, when we're alone together. I have this gift for you. It's been a month, since we, um, took our relationship beyond professional, and I thought you might appreciate a gift."

Caylia smiled. "Is this an anniversary present, Quinn?" 

"Call it what you like, but anniversary would be an incorrect term, since it refers to something that happens annually, not monthly. Still, the intent is the same."

"I haven't anything for you." She said immediately, before her fingers could open the box he was handing her.

"You've given me plenty of thoughtful gifts since we met. This...made me think of you."

The realization that he thought of her, and had picked it with care made Caylia eager to see what it was. Giving him a warm smile that spread across her face, she took the box and began to open it. From within the tissue paper she found another box, but this one smaller, and plain. She opened it and her breath caught. It was a music box, delicately tinkling as she pulled it from the wrapping.

"Malavai." She breathed. There were no other words but to say his name, and let the music box do the rest.

She wound it and set it on her bed, letting it play out the strains of a song that was familiar to her only because she'd heard him listening the the Sith opera so often. It was quieter, but not smaller as it came from the tiny box. The recherché music sounded like a mini metallic harpsichord filled the air as she kissed him.


	25. Belsavis

For some strange reason, Caylia liked Belsavis. Perhaps it was the heady perfume of the overlarge plants, or the fact that it wasn't just one climate and moved from tropical to freezing, unlike Tatooine or Hoth. 

Well, she liked the planet of Belsavis. She wasn't too fond of prison riots, secret penal colonies or deranged Republic scientists. Still, she relished the times when she wasn't being shot at or attacked, and wondered why the Republic hadn't simply turned Belsavis into a resort planet, like the Hutts did. 

But she soon learned that this prison wasn't a creation of the Republic, merely a find. It was old and the further she got into it, the less she liked Belsavis.

At least Jaesa shared her enthusiasm over the plants and diversity of climate. Her apprenticed followed her gladly as she stopped to look at flowers or flowing rivers of lava. It was great to have someone by her side that wondered at the galaxy as much as she did.

Caylia plucked another deep fuchsia flower from where it was nestled between two large boulders. It smelled a little like sweet wine, the kind Quinn hated unless it was served with dessert.

"Another deep pink one, my lord? Anyone who looked out for details might think you were harboring some sort of secret passion." Jaesa teased.

"Secret passion? My passions are hardly secret or worth knowing." Caylia scoffed.

"It is nice to see you so happy, master."

Caylia favored her apprentice with a smile as she stowed the flower away. "It is nice to be happy, even in the midst of all this."

"You mustn't feel guilty!" Jaesa exclaimed. "This war should have no hold on love, on what you've created. If you let it take that from you, then war wins and all the people lose."

"And so the padawan advises the master." 

"She does. Be happy - the spillage has made the crew happier as a whole."

"Not the least of which is Pierce because he thinks he's getting a reprieve from the harshness of the Captain's eye." Caylia said, the both of them laughing.

"Captain Quinn is...easier to work with when he is relaxed." Jaesa admitted. She reached down and picked another bloom that Caylia hadn't seen, orange with a dark purple center.

"And what would this say about you, Jaesa?"

"That I am glad to be out with a friend, on this fine day. A friend who is radiant with love, and glowing so fiercely even the brightest of those flowers pale in comparison."

"I thought you were a Jedi, not a poet."

"I can be both." Jaesa said, smiling to herself as she twirled a stalk of green grass between her fingers.


	26. Married

Marriage wasn't at all what he expected it to be, but to be honest, Malavai wasn't sure what being married to a Sith Lord might be like. He loved Caylia, he knew that for sure and the way their little domesticities played out filled him with a sense of content the likes of which he'd never known before. There was a joy of seeing her doing mundane things, in watching her brush her hair, sleeping next to her. 

Some parts were better than others, while he loved working with her, their tired evenings collapsing into bed and healing wounds wasn't his idea of a honeymoon. Time in the refresher however, more than made up for it. How he'd spent his whole life without bathing with a woman was beyond him, but it quickly became one of his most favored occurrences. It was one of the most glorious intimacies he'd ever known. Heat and water and skin, his hair in his eyes, the spray on his back as she moaned, fingers grasping for purchase against slick muscles. Yes, the refresher made up for a lot.

It didn't stop him from wanting a small break, a chance to take her to a place untouched by the war and with few interruptions, but it wasn't possible. Maybe later on, but not at the moment. Instead, they spent their time together as much as they could, he forgoing his constant checks on the ship and extra shifts in order to spend time in her arms, worshiping her from head to toe.

They whispered secrets to each other in the dark of night, and slowly built a trust with each other, and a place where they could be free.

He liked being married far more than he would have anticipated.


	27. Father Figures

"You never mention your family much, Malavai. Have you even told them that we're married?" Caylia asked.

"My mother sent her congratulations, my love. I thought I'd mentioned it to you." He answered, looking up at her from where he sat on the bed, his back propped up against the headboard. "I'm sure my father would be impressed, were he alive. He was dedicated to the Empire and the Sith. It would please him to know I'd married a Sith Lord, and even more if he had a Force-sensitive grandchild."

Caylia's face fell and she skimmed right over the part about children. The short discussion they had about it came out to 'someday but not now'. "You never told me your father was dead too."

"Hadn't I?" He become somber as he thought, the dim light between them casting shadows that played off his face and bare torso. 

They were in bed, as they wound up together much of the time when they were alone. She was sitting up with her robe around her as he reclined. She'd shuttled back to the ship from Belsavis earlier that day, though her business there wasn't quite complete. Caylia told herself it was because she missed her bed and wanted to get away from the constant warring, but it was mostly because of Quinn. She missed him when they were apart, though she made a point not to favor him unduly.

"I don't believe so, no." She answered softly. "Is it okay to talk about it, or should I drop the subject?"

"No, it's alright. My father was Colonel Rymar Quinn. He was killed on Rhen Var during the last war."

"How old were you?"

"Ten, or so." He said, gazing off into the distance. "I remember him fondly, if not very well. He was stern and expected the best, but he rewarded exceptional work and was encouraging when I told him in a fit of childish ambition that I wanted to become the Grand Moff." He cracked a smile at the memory and turned to look at her. "I know he would have liked you - he served a Darth faithfully until he died."

Caylia smiled back at him, taking his hand in hers. "I'm sorry I never got to know him." She said, feeling the twinge of regret for a meeting that never meant to be. "My father died not long before I went to Korriban. The Overseer there said my rage and sorrow must have fed into my Force sensitivity. At the time, I just was glad to be someplace new, away from my past. It helped to have something to fight when I was angry about it."

"Do you miss him?" Quinn asked, remembering how he had mourned his father, but hadn't spent enough time with him to truly know the man outside the perceptions of a child. The fact had haunted him as he grew older, wondering what his father would have said or done in certain instances. There wasn't enough in his mind for him to make much assumption, save for that he would have been glad to have Caylia in the family. Probably impressed by her too, but Quinn couldn't think that with certainty.

"There are some days when the loss is overwhelming, and I do think of him quite often. It is worse when I think of writing to him, and then remembering he isn't there anymore."

"I understand. I too, regret that I never got the chance to meet your father. But I'm sure he's proud of you, as I am." He said, wrapping his arms around her and hugging her to him. She relaxed against his chest and he stroked her hair. The losses bonded them in a way she hadn't envisioned, as sorrow tends to do. After all, they had promised to share the good times and the bad. They held each other in silence, because there was nothing more to be said.


	28. Diplomatic Immunity

It was after he pulled Dhraag from the fires on Belsavis station that Baras knew he needed another plan. This one, if it worked, would free him of loose ends. He'd been keeping watch on her, noting the patterns of her and her crew since she'd left Dromund Kaas. Baras knew far more about her than she was aware. He knew she'd married Malavai Quinn quietly on their ship, that the girl Jaesa still practiced the code of the Jedi despite abandoning the order, and that the black ops soldier was more dangerous than he let on. Still, none of them would be enough to save his former apprentice.

The upstart girl couldn't possibly hope to do more than prolong her needless life. When Dhraag's near death assured him that brute force couldn't be applied, he had to be more persuasive and change tactics accordingly. 

He would ruin her so utterly, she would beg him for death. Baras knew just how to do it.

#####

They were on the ship, about to head towards the Voss orbital station when Caylia asked him to divert to a diplomatic mission instead. As they lay in bed together, she outlined her need for him on Alderaan, to assist in quelling some of the problems that still stewed there. Diplomatic work held a special place for him, rare was the occasion he got to practice it, but he was gifted in it. She did utilize him from time to time, but preferred him by her side on the field for the most part. That morning, however she explained.

"Jaesa's too close to Alderaan still, and I worry about sending her back there."

"I see. You know I would do anything you asked without question, but I understand not wanting to send your apprentice back there. She seems very fragile at times." Malavai said.

"I think she is, but only because I caused her so much trauma. It is my mistake to correct, and I try to do so. Still, I worry about sending her back to her homeworld when there are so many influences there that can't be controlled. I know you can get the job done." Caylia sighed, and Quinn ran a hand down her back, idly rubbing at the muscles. His wife worked too hard, but doubted the situation would change. The Emperor's Wrath didn't seem like a position that was granted much in the way of vacation. She broke into his thoughts with a small smile. "But I'll miss you."

"And I you. I'll just have to make it up to you when I get back." He promised. Caylia rolled towards him, smile widening as he dropped his head for a kiss. They didn't have time to spend saying goodbye to each other the way he wanted - she was needed urgently on the planet, and the shuttle bound for the core worlds would depart soon. 

While he was on Alderaan, missing his wife and trying to resolve the mission she'd sent him on, someone approached him in the market. He'd been looking for a gift for Caylia, something she'd like that he could only get on Alderaan. It was a great place to purchase the little luxuries that could only be found planetside - silks and sweets - things she was fond of. The nobles there made it easy to find any kind of extravagance and he was grateful he didn't have to look further than the local market. 

Quinn had been searching for the spiny oranges she so loved, but the few he saw smelled their over-ripeness, the potent citrusy scent curling into his nose despite the thick, bristled peel. They wouldn't last the trip back to the ship. He kept the color in mind when he picked out a dress for Caylia, something to be worn in case they ever did any socializing on Dromund Kaas. The garment was deceptively simple, but made of the finest fabrics and would show off the curves he so loved. The color was made for her, a firey red-orange, bold and daring, just as she was. It would please her when she saw it, and him when he took it off of her. 

He paid for it, letting his mind wander while the dress was folded into paper and put in a box. She would love it, and his mind was busy picturing the two of them attending the Sith Opera, or dancing in the Nexus Room while she wore it. They'd talked about doing things like that together, but they hadn't been back to Kaas City in some time.

"Captain Malavai Quinn?" A woman's voice asked from off to the side, breaking into his reverie. He nearly scowled as he looked over at the interrupter, but composed his face suitably as he addressed her.

"Yes? Sergeant?" He asked, taking in her rank immediately. She saluted him and began speaking.

"Urgent holocall for you sir. On a secure line." She said, motioning for him to follow.

"Is it from my ship?" He asked, fearing that it was one of the crew calling with bad news about Caylia. He worried about her, even Voss was a neutral planet. They'd never failed to get in their share of fights in neutral places.

"I'm sorry, I can't say, sir. I was just told to find you."

When he got there, it was Darth Baras, of all people, on the holo. This time he did grimace as he took a glimpse at the man who had almost ended Caylia's life in a cave-in. There were Sith guards at the door, no doubt to ensure he couldn't walk out without taking the call, but he had no intention on resuming his role with his old master. Before he could figure out what to say to Baras, the man started speaking. The first thing he did was a motion so familiar to Quinn that he didn't register it, since he'd seen it so many times before. Baras waved his hand and then began talking.

Afterwards, Quinn looked down at the box containing red-orange dress he'd picked out for his wife, and felt foolish. Defying Baras openly when it was he that raised her from the academy, becoming a traitor, that was no reason to reward the woman. Still, he felt conflicted as he finished his diplomatic mission, the confusion arising from his personal feeling about Caylia. His head was overstuffed with information, tasks that needed to be done, things that had to be remedied. For the Empire.

On the shuttle back, he opened up his logs, the ones he'd abandoned after their last visit to Quesh, but before had maintained regularly. They used to be sent to Darth Baras about Caylia's fighting styles and attacks, along with her significant interactions and pertinent information about the crew. He'd been so remiss lately, but would make up for all of that. He worked furiously all the way back to Voss-Ka, where he greeted his wife with a kiss on the cheek after informing her the mission was a success.


	29. The True Voice of the Emperor

Seeing the lengths Baras had gone to make his deception seem real made Caylia strangely sad. Leaving the Voss voice imprisoned on his own world, but unable to leave the chamber was a terrible crime. So few felt remorse for their own greed, but then again not many had the gall to act as brazenly as Baras had.

He didn't deserve his title as Darth or his newly acquired (at her expense) seat on the council. He only deserved the business end of her lightsaber.

She didn't notice how Quinn grew rigid whenever she mentioned Baras now, or how indifferent he'd become to her casual touches. He preferred to stay back on the ship, requesting more than once to stay behind to 'do upgrades' when she'd asked him to come with her on Voss. Caylia didn't think twice about it, other than to miss Quinn's presence at her shoulder. Her mission took most of her focus, and when he wasn't around, he sent her notes with gifts attached. It was enough in small doses, she liked that he thought of her, and wanted to give her things when they weren't together.

She did notice that he took up the extra shifts he'd once abandoned in favor of her, and worked recording calculations and information in his private notes. It was almost like when he first joined the crew and was doing extra work because of their small group. But this time her focus was elsewhere, confident in their fledgling marriage and love. Caylia didn't have to pay extra attention to him, because she thought she knew where she stood.

She didn't.


	30. Making Sense

These days, he no longer enjoyed being married. There were moments, whole hours that would disappear and he'd forget about the circumstances around it all, but the reprieve never lasted long enough. Malavai loved his wife, but there was duty and honor compelling him to go in another direction. Darth Baras had used many words to describe it - seduced was chief amongst them - but Quinn didn't think that was entirely the case.

Both of them, Baras and Caylia, thought they were doing the right thing. In the end there would only be one victor, and though he loved his wife, the thought of her winning made less and less sense. 

Baras said words like duty and honor and patriotism after their first communication on Alderaan, and though it grieved him, he grew more and more sure in their shared purpose. Caylia might understand if he explained it.

But he would never expect her to forgive him before she died. That pained him in the most awful way, more than the thought of luring her away to do what Baras had convinced him must be done. If he could, he would express his regret to her. Choosing between the good of the Empire and her wasn't something he'd ever wanted to do and it made his chest ache just above his heart when he thought of her for too long.

She looked over at him, smiling as she woke up to find him already dressed. Her hair was in tangles and sticking out in odd directions, her arms bare as she pulled the blanket up around her neck. She'd taken to sleeping in his undershirts, and he added that to the mental list of things he would miss, the little things he never wanted to forget about her.

He loved his wife, but there was duty. The Empire had always demanded much of him, but this was the only time he'd ever faltered.

"I guess now that we are done on Voss, we should see where we're needed next." She yawned. All he could do was nod. He didn't trust his voice not to blurt it all out and ruin everything. They would head to Corellia soon, he could feel it.

"The ship is ready whenever you are, my lord." He said, reverting to formality to show that he considered himself on duty.

"Alrighty." She answered and he winced. She'd picked up that word from Vette, who constantly used it. "Back to the ship in an hour."

He nodded again and left the sparsely furnished room on Voss where they'd been housed. He could do this, he just kept wondering if he really had to.


	31. For The Sake of Appearance

"We are to keep up appearances, Malavai." Caylia said to him before they boarded the ship again. She'd been merciful where most others, especially Baras, would not have been. He didn't know if it was because she loved him, or just simply because she didn't want to lose anything to Baras.

"Of course, my...lord." He was about to say, 'my love', the affectionate way he had of addressing her in private. Something about it didn't feel right to him at that moment, considering what had just happened between them.

Part of him was absolutely, completely horrified at all of it. That he had hurt her. That he failed both her and Baras so utterly. He hadn't expected this, all this pain that seemed to crush him from the inside out with its relentless growth.

"I don't want them to know about what happened, so we cannot...be any different, at least outwardly. To show a change would show my weakness."

He caught the unsaid. He was her weakness, in her love for him she'd let herself be blinded. The crew, her crew would see it that way as well, if they knew. So it was that they went back to their quarters after Caylia offered the brief explanation that Darth Baras had set them up, and that they'd both nearly perished, but otherwise, it was business as usual.

It was so far from the truth. For his part, Malavai felt dazed. He hadn't expected them both to live, either he would kill his greatest love and become a wreck of a man, or she would survive and kill him for his treachery. Either way, he hadn't expected to find himself locked in a bedroom with a woman that wouldn't look at him.

"Didn't I give you camping equipment?" Caylia asked, looking at him.

"Yes, I believe so."

"You'd better unpack it, because we're not sharing a bed." She delivered the line furiously and limped out of the room. When she came back later, he had indeed located the equipment, and readied it for a night on the floor. It was to be the first of many.

"Do you want me to see to your wounds?" He asked, after watching her wince when she stood up.

"No."

"As you wish."

The next morning, she was still in pain, as was he from a night sleeping on the floor. He would need something else, more blankets at the very least if he wasn't going to be allowed back in the bed.

"Caylia, will you let me heal you?" He asked, contrite as he watched her dress. She was bruised all over, her bronze skin mottled where she'd taken hits. "It looks serious."

"You can examine me, and heal the worst of it." She said, relenting. "But nothing more."

He gingerly looked over his wife, who kept her gaze focused on something beyond his ear as he did. She must have been in a lot of pain overnight, he couldn't have imagined that it was easy to sleep with her body in such a state. Guilt surged through him as he checked for broken ribs and found two. He'd done this.

"You don't seem to have broken anything other than these ribs, but your contusions are worrisome. If you would permit me, I could heal them for you, and make you more comfortable."

"No. I want to remember this pain. They'll heal with time. Maybe so will I." 

He didn't ask again.


	32. Afterthoughts

Betraying his wife seemed very unlike him, and very _Sith_ , of all things. He'd never wanted that kind of marriage. He knew people on Dromund Kaas that played that game, sacrificing their loved ones for prestige, to save face, for power. Malavai could play that game, but was disinclined to do so - he'd married for love, not the power of being with a Sith Lord. But a few days after the transponder station, Pierce slipped him a study that made their marriage seem all the more doomed.

He'd wanted his career and the life that Baras had tantalizingly dangled in front of his eyes. When he grew apprehensive about the whole plan and suggested bringing Caylia back into the fold, Baras force choked him. Though it had been weeks in the past, he could still feel the pressure on his windpipe, the darkening of his vision around the edges as he began to pass out.

He'd worked even harder then, because he knew either way his life was in danger.

But Baras didn't seem surprised to see him afterwards when he forced his holocall through to the ship, or to find that Caylia was still alive. He'd been expected to fail.

And now, his wife wanted nothing to do with him.

He could hear her crying in the bed, but was afraid to touch her, and she sobbed during her now solitary time in the refresher. When she wasn't crying in private, she ignored him or gave into the anger that dried the tears from her eyes. He took it all. In his heart, Malavai wasn't sure what else he could do to make it up to her, so he just took whatever she sent his way in private and let her continue her charade in front of the crew.

When she wasn't around, he cried too. He sobbed hot, angry tears of shame and confusion, of revulsion and wounded pride and relief. Some times he was thankful to be alive, and other days, he couldn't muster up the wherewithal to meet her hard, dead stares.

It was lucky that she'd never been prone to public displays of affection. It was a blessing that no one ever came to their door at night and found him on the floor. Quinn was careful to leave nothing out of place where it could rouse her anger, or the suspicion of the crew. They only saw what they wanted to see, he and Caylia going into their shared bedroom, the door shutting behind them, the droid bringing them dinner. He still sat next to her at the meals they shared with the crew and they feigned normalcy.

They were newlyweds and happy for all appearances, but he felt so far from either they may as well have been in the outer rim.


	33. You Are Missing From Me

Caylia sat in the middle of the bed, staring at the walls. Ever since Malavai attacked her, she hadn't done much talking. They were still living together, even though at times she desperately wanted to send him away. It was difficult to stay mad at him when he was there all the time, looking guilty and worried, sneaking glances at her when he didn't think she would notice.

The intense anger that she'd originally felt had morphed into something different, something bleak and hard for her to understand, let alone name. Outwardly, she looked serene, but inside, she was full of questions with no answers. The disappointment she felt was rooted so deep within her betimes it doubled her over, taking her breath away.

Her husband came into the room, the door opening with a whoosh. He saw her immediately at on perch at the end of the bed, and took up the cowed body language that he'd adopted since their return to the ship. She couldn't take this any more. It had been long enough that her bruises were fading and they needed to move on, but she needed to understand first.

"Do you speak any Mando'a, Malavai?" She asked. It was the first time she'd done more than given him an order in some time.

"No, I don't." She could hear his curiosity in the answer, and realized she wasn't looking at him as she spoke. It didn't matter.

"When they say, 'I miss you' it translates into Basic as 'you are missing from me'. As if you are part of the other person, that the two of you are a unit together. I feel like that. You're here, and we're together, but I feel weak, passionless. It's like Baras took the part of you that lives in me and crushed it." She turned toward him finally, and found him closer than she'd realized. He'd come to the end of the bed while she'd spoken, nearly touching her knee. 

His face was a mask of grief and sorrow, and Caylia could barely look at him, because it broke her heart to see him. That's what she was feeling that she couldn't name before - brokenhearted.

Tears that had come so often and hard since the transponder ship burned at the back of her eyes, making themselves known once again, but she kept them in check. She wasn't as masterful with her voice as she said thickly, "I still love you, for some stupid reason."

"Love is never rational, Caylia." Malavai answered softly. She could see teartracks glistening on his face, and knew that he'd been less successful than she in keeping the tears at bay.

"Did you love ambition more than me? Or did you never love me at all?" The questions that had been in her mind finally came out, after their long delay. She didn't think he hadn't loved her, but then again, she wasn't sure what to think anymore. The whole affair made her head pound with pain when she tried to make sense of it.

"I do love you. I never ever faked any feelings for you." He bent close to her face as she shook her head, forcing her to look at him. "I will always love you."

"You have a funny way of showing it."

"I was mislead...I'd served Baras for a long time. Our love is new, and I thought him right, that it was making me weak. I was mistaken. He said many things, some about duty and honor and others leading me to believe that I was seduced away from following his truths."

She nodded at him, her own eyes staring into his. He was telling the truth, laying himself bare in front of her. They'd made a mistake, a big one with Baras, but it was he that brought them together in the first place. Both of them were guilty of trusting him, but Malavai, without Force powers and his orderly mind easy to read, was more influenced by the man. They'd known each other for at least a decade, when he'd salvaged Quinn's career after Druckenwell. There was no denying it - they'd been played expertly against each other. If one of them had died, it would have been a bonus.

"I love you." Caylia gasped, giving into the sob that had lodged itself in her chest. He held her against him as she shuddered, sobbing. They were deep, horrible cries that made him ache as well, and his tears mingled with hers. She cried until she couldn't breathe anymore, a dark wet spot on his uniform from her tears.

She turned her puffy, red face away, and lay back against the pillows. Malavai pulled the blanket over her, and settled himself on the floor.


	34. Hoth Again

In the confusion after the transponder station, she was called back to Hoth to aid the Imperials there. She didn't know whether it was the right thing to do or not, but she took the assignment and decided to worry about it later. Quinn was neither given missions or brought along to Hoth with her as she finished up more business there. She needed time to think, time apart. Pierce accompanied her down on the surface, likening the world to the place where he grew up. He was good company, and he kept her focused on the mission for the most part.

There was plenty of time to think down on Hoth. The ice and snowy landscape cleared her mind when she looked out at it, granting her new perspective. It occurred to her that something was strange about the whole situation with Quinn. There were a million times when he could have just left her to die on the field of battle, his healing probes and kolto the only thing keeping her from the brink. He was her husband, they shared quarters, he could have sabotaged her in a multitude of ways, and failing all of that, dispatched her in her sleep and escaped from the ship. He would have been halfway back to Dromund Kaas before the rest of the crew even found her. No, this didn't seem right.

Back on the ship, her business on the planet finished, she spoke to Jaesa about it. Her apprentice had sensed the wall Caylia had erected to block out the tangle of conflicting emotions that threatened to bring her to her knees. Instead of focusing on the incident, she spoke of Quinn being misled, of how she felt there was something wrong, but she was unable to put her finger on it. It was simply a lot of little things that didn't make sense.

"If you like, master, I can read him."

"To what end, Jaesa?"

Her apprentice stood up straighter. "To protect you. I can see if his intentions and motivations. If he harbors anything other than affection, you can take action and defend yourself. Also, if he was controlled by the Force in any way, there are emotional indicators."

Caylia was intrigued by this new insight into Jaesa's power. Her apprentice had been getting stronger since she'd come aboard, and working to hone and refine her abilities. Perhaps this was one such effect from the development. "Such as?" She asked curiously.

"Since it's been some time since the action allegedly took place, he's likely to be confused whenever he looks back in his memories. There will be a fissure, a gap between what he really felt and what he was told to feel. It creates dissonance within a person. I might be able to see that. If it is absent, then you know he willingly followed Darth Baras's plan, and I'll be able to see if he regrets it."

"Only with his permission Jaesa." Caylia said, after mulling over the possibilities for a few moments. She had suspected and wondered, but had no one way of actually confirming whether Quinn had willingly followed Baras or not. 

Quinn, ready to show his contrition in any way he could, agreed readily. Caylia stayed in the medbay while Jaesa read him in their quarters. It was over much more quickly than she expected, even with her heart filled with dread and a head full of questions.

Jaesa came back not too long later, and spoke in a low voice. "He is confused Master, a dissonance in him that would suggest his will was twisted, but his mind wasn't entirely overpowered. Some of his actions were his own, but you know the effect a powerful persuasive can have just by using words. But more than that," Jaesa took a deep, steadying breath before she went on, "Captain Quinn is remorseful. He's so angry with himself and sad and scared he might lose you that it's like he's screaming in pain. I couldn't read him for more than a while before I needed to shield myself. Now that I am attuned to it - master, I don't think I can stay. It's up to you what you need to do in your relationship, but surely you can find some use for me off the ship." 

Caylia was flabbergasted and stammered out an apology to her apprentice. Poor Jaesa, who had been caught in their private war, hurt trying to help her. "I hadn't realized that it would be hard for you. Of course Jaesa, you know I always need help with other missions. Thank you for doing this." 

"I am pleased to have helped." She started to say something further but stopped and reached out to touch Caylia's arm. The weight of her soft hand was comforting, large eyes looking at Caylia with one pure intent - for a friend to help another. "You'll need to ask him what happened, if he can remember. I can't look into the past. But I think you should."

"In time. Perhaps now he and I can work on fixing the immediate problems between us."

Jaesa nodded and let Caylia leave. Finding something for her apprentice to do would be no hardship, but Caylia's mind was barely on that as she walked out. He hadn't been lying, not totally. That was something she'd wanted but hadn't dared to hope for.

It was just so hard to reconcile the man she married with the one that served her now, to know that as she worked and they built their life, Baras had been able to get between them. Tired of the constant pain and sadness that had become more partner to her than Quinn these days, Caylia made up her mind. There was no going backward, no way to recapture that heady, uncontrollable feeling of new love, but she was in charge of her life. Either she was going to mend her marriage or end it, and she wasn't ready to call it quits on Quinn yet.

When he came into their bedroom that night, she gave him a hug for the first time since the transponder station. Wrapping her arms tightly around him, she held on as if trying to imprint the feeling of him into her skin. Despite his startled reaction when she first put her arms around him, he hugged her back equally as fierce.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In Caylia's playthrough, I did the Hoth bonus series before going on to Corellia. Though I was expecting the attack at the transponder station, I didn't get directly on after that. Like the character, I needed time to think and Hoth provided a nice distraction.


	35. Chess

Quinn had taken to staying outside their quarters, to give her space while they were weathering out their problems. It was illuminating in many ways, he got to observe his fellow crew, yes, but also he got to clean up the medbay and organize workstations. Keeping everything at regulation pleased him, and there was little else in his life at the moment that provided such satisfaction.

Mostly, it was lonely. He hadn't realized how much time they'd actually spent together until it was gone. There was no way to get it back, nothing would rival their honeymoon period, ever in his mind. Before Baras had contacted him, he was happy, for the first time in a very long while. Caylia was more than his lord, but his joy, her smile made his world brighter. He shook his head, trying to derail that train of thought before it had time to go further. This was old hat, they'd talked about it, and were trying to let it go, or at least, find a way past it.

Still, he didn't want to crowd her. Their relationship was still mending, and he didn't want to make any missteps along the way. He sat outside, reading the rather dry biography of a semi-famous Moff. It wasn't interesting, but the woman herself was, and he'd selected it a while back, thinking the study her tactics for his own use. Around him, Vette and Pierce were busy flirting with each other, ignoring him. Broonmark was sleeping, the snoring so loud he could hear it where he sat. Jaesa was somewhere around as well, but he wasn't sure what she was up to. He didn't actually care.

A hand slithered down his chest, making him jump a little from the surprise. He turned just in time for his ear to meet Caylia's lips as she whispered into it. "Do you want to come with me, handsome?"

Malavai could hardly believe it, but he took it in stride. "Absolutely." He replied, the timbre of his voice rough with shock and tentative excitement. He got up and following her the scant steps to their shared room. Before the door could close behind them, he'd taken her in his arms, kissing her with a pent up ferocity that he hadn't realized simmered so close to the surface. They'd started kissing again, just a few times that mostly ended in more tears or frustration, but they were never intimate. Caylia said she wasn't ready for that, yet, and he understood. It took trust to make love.

He pressed her hard against the wall, tongue running along the length of her neck, teeth nipping at her jaw. To taste her skin again, to feel her lips against his, it was more than he'd dared to hope for. For a few moments, she was breathless, her hand clasped around his neck, threading through his hair, urging him on. He could feel the very second when she realization hit her and she stiffened, no longer returning his affections. With her hands on his chest, she pushed him gently away from her. As he caught his breath, he studied her, she was as beautiful as ever. Her eyes were glassy from their kissing, but at least it banished the tired, sad look she'd been wearing recently. 

"Malavai, I'm sorry. I can't, not yet. I should have told you beforehand, but I needed it to look real. I'm still not ready to resume our sexual relationship, but they need not know that."

"Keeping up appearances?" He asked, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice. She looked so guilty as she nodded, it took all the fight out of him. He just wanted to hold her, but he wasn't sure he'd be welcome. "I should have expected this." He said with a hard laugh.

"So long as you're in here with me, we can pass the time." She gave him a small, conciliatory smile. "Can you play chess?"

Chess was the last thing on his mind at the moment, his pants straining uncomfortably with an erection so hard it was painful. It would be an effort to even sit down. "An age old game of strategy? Yes, of course I can."

"Good. Then you can teach me." She said, settling down onto the bed. He watched her fold into herself, and once more she became distant, even though she wasn't an arms length away.


	36. Corellia

To his great surprise, Caylia took him with her to Corellia. It was almost as it had been before, with him standing at her side. The distance that had settled between them hadn't hindered their fighting style - in fact he thought they worked better now than before. The observation sat bittersweet in his mind.

Their interactions were becoming less painful, and they'd started laughing together again - a sure sign of progress. He'd missed her laughter more than he could say, hearing it again as it rang out clear made him want to hug her to his chest. He refrained, of course, since they'd been on duty at the time, but it didn't stop him from wishing he could hoard the sound of her laughter in his memory to call up for the rest of his life. In the spaceport, she'd brushed up against him and hadn't immediately pulled away, instead leaning against his side. Progress was measured in small moments between them, in smiles and heartbeats.

But as soon as he was feeling good about their task, they reached their target, and she sent him away.

"Please, Quinn. Take the Darth back to the ship. Protect him."

"What about you, my lord?"

"I'll be fine, you know that. Vette will come with me and be my back up." She took in his worried face and sighed. "This isn't what you think it is. I trust you. I'm not sending you back to punish you. I need you to be in charge of this. No one else is as capable. I never said I wouldn't miss you or that I wouldn't prefer you here with me. It's what we have to do. We have our duty."

Without warning, Quinn cupped her face with his hand. Funny, how big his hand seemed as his thumb stroked her jaw, and he smiled down at her.

"You can count on me, my love." 

"I know, Malavai. I'll miss you." She answered.

"And I you."

When she returned his smile, it came easier than it had in a very long time. They were fixing things, and if they could keep Darth Vowrawn alive and get his help she'd see to it that Baras paid personally for ever interfering in her marriage.

Behind them, Darth Vowrawn smiled to himself as he took in the scene. So this was the Emperor's Wrath, all sweetness and noble intentions with her officer of a husband. It was a departure from the old Empire, but perhaps this would serve them better.


	37. A Reason to Fight

Pierce looked over at Quinn, who was fighting the assassin Sith like he'd never seen before. In all his time with the Imperial Captain, the man had been restraint embodied, even in the middle of battle he looked calculating. If there was a way to overanalyze on the field, he was sure that Quinn had found it and exploited it in the past - in every battle before this one. The man had a power, almost a frenzy to him as he engaged the enemy. There was nothing restrained about him this time, he was quick and wild, the training he'd relied on for so long making his shots hit their mark, the vibroknife he carried became a lethal extension of his hand and adrenaline made him move faster, work harder.

When it was done, ragged and out of breath, Pierce went over to see to him. Without Lord Caylia, Quinn was in charge, and he was the one with the kolto packs after all.

"Pierce, are you alright?" Quinn asked. Even his voice sounded different, not so stiff and formal, but it could have been because they were still both trying to regain themselves. The attack was brutal and quite frankly, they were lucky Quinn was feeling like a maniac today, otherwise they probably wouldn't have made it.

"Fine. Little scratched up. You fought like a madman." 

"Caylia would never forgive me if..." Quinn trailed off, shaking his head. "Forgive my lapse. Lord Caylia would be unhappy if the assassin reached the target." He said, reverting to his normal tone. But the message had been clear enough. Unexpectedly, Pierce clapped him on the shoulder.

"You found something to fight for, Captain. Your wife is more than enough reason. She's the reason why we all continue to fight, if you don't mind me saying so."

Quinn nodded, not speaking. There was more to this, more than a man wanting to do his best to impress his woman or keep the Darth alive. Quinn had passion backing his fight, maybe some anger mixed in there too, making him absolutely lethal in a way he hadn't been before. If Lord Caylia brought this out in him, it was only for the better. 

For a few blissful moments after they'd married, Quinn had been less of a prick, and the rest of the ship breathed easier. His skills, the ones Lord Caylia lauded so often and vocally, were more evident then because at a distance it was more obvious. Pierce was in a better position to admire the mans piloting skills when he wasn't forced to take notes on it. All too soon he resumed his hard-line, exacting methods of running the ship. The reprieve had been much too small for Pierce's liking.

"That she is, Lieutenant. She's my best reason to fight, but certainly not my only one."

Pierce might never like Quinn, but he was starting to respect him.


	38. Forgiving

They were on the bridge of the ship, and all things were normal, considering. They were traveling to Dromund Kaas, a place he knew Caylia hated, but they were on official Sith business. She'd been summoned, and even one as powerful as she didn't refuse such a request. From there, they would head on to Korriban, to the Dark Council to confront Darth Baras. Strictly speaking, there was nothing out of the ordinary, they were making good time despite their distance, and the ship was running well, but Malavai could feel something different, as if a slight shift had changed the air.

Caylia was staring at him. It was the third time he'd caught her doing it, she'd be looking at him with such an intensity he could feel it, the hair rising on the back on his neck in response, but she'd look away instead of meeting his eyes. He wondered what was running through her mind, and if things were going to get worse for them.

"Quinn, when will we arrive on Dromund Kaas?" She asked eventually.

"It will take us at least twelve more hours, my lord. More on automatic."

"Is your presence required?" 

"No, my lord. I can leave if you wish to dismiss me, or I can find other duties to tend to."

"Dismissed." She said, with a wave of her hand. Quinn gave her the straight-backed salute of the Imperial military, and left the bridge. He looked over his shoulder to see her gazing intently at the astrogation chart, as if she were trying to make up her mind about where to go even though their course was set. Perhaps there was something lined up for after their time in Kaas City. She so rarely spoke these days, he didn't know whether or not she'd gotten some new assignment since her summons.

He went to their chambers, where he found himself at a loss. He sat down on the bed and took off his boots, thinking. There were only so many things he could do, but before he could think up something to pass the time, Caylia entered. He stood up at once, waiting to see if she had an order to give him.

She was fidgeting, which was unusual in itself. In all the time he'd known her, he'd never seen her nervous or unsure. Before him, she chewed on her bottom lip, and her eyes darted around the cabin, unable to stay in one place.

"I miss you." She said finally, the words coming out in a rush. 

"I miss you too." Malavai answered truthfully. He was unsure what she meant exactly, since they had been working on patching things up. There were so many things that were different, but also better than they had been.

"Don't interrupt, I'll lose my nerve." She said, and he sat back down on the bed, waiting for her to talk again. "I was wondering if you'd, if we could try again. I want to be with you."

Conflicted hazel eyes met his own and he realized that she was asking to sleep with him again, for the first time since the transponder station incident. It felt like it had happened an eon ago, and their recovery had taken twice as long as it had in reality. The amount of effort it took her to ask him this wasn't lost on him. Malavai smiled, standing back up and walking over to her. He pulled her to him with one fluid movement, just as he had the first time they'd kissed. "I'd like nothing better."

When she kissed him, he returned it with as much ardor as he could, saying wordlessly, how much he loved her. After all this time, the tense moments, the tears and the false starts, he was finally home again. She pulled back, to take off her saber and shield generator. He noticed her hand shake as she did so.

They started with a kiss, one feather-light that made him hold his breath when she leaned into it. It was slow, intense. Clothes came off easily and they fell back into the bed together, with kiss after kiss. They kissed fiercely, with pent up intensity - want and joy and sadness. He didn't speak, but if he could there wouldn't have been much to say. It was a time when silence was more powerful than words, to be filled in with action alone. She shivered under his touch, but smiled up at him.

The world closed in around him, and there was nothing but the two of them. He was gentle as she let him in, the both of them moving slowly until he was sheathed completely within her warmth. Caylia's breath hitched as he began to move, hard and slow, and she reached up to kiss him. "I missed you." She whispered.

"I'm sorry." He answered. Malavai wanted to repeat it over and over again, until it faded into nothingness but filled the air around them.

There was no race to the end, but the two of them together, remembering themselves and their love. Every time she moaned, he both felt and heard it, letting the sounds carrying him forward. When it ended, and he tried to hold off for a good long time, it was with her crying out his name like he hasn't heard it in far too long.

Afterwards, when he was holding her in his arms again, planting kisses on her shoulder, whispering to her, he had to ask the question that had been in his mind since the incident. "Why didn't you tell the others?"

Caylia rolled out of his arms and turned to face him. "They wouldn't have trusted you anymore. I didn't want dissension amongst the crew or worse, for you to be hurt. If I was going to forgive you, it had to be on my own terms, not because the others were glaring at you. No one but Jaesa knows, and I plan on keeping it that way."

"Could she sense something amiss?"

She nodded but didn't speak further. Quinn folded her back into his arms, pressing her bare back to his chest once more. "I'll never give you a reason to doubt again."

"I knew that this could happen at some point." She admitted, sounding sad. "I just thought we were somehow above it, all the petty games and betrayals that go along with being Sith. One of my first tasks at the Sith Academy was to set myself against another student. I then had to kill the man that brought me there, Overseer Tremel. When I expressed my regret he said, 'This is the way of the Sith.' I never forgot that. I must appear strong and unassailable at all times."

"You don't speak of your time at the academy that often." He observed, but she felt the question in the statement. She hadn't at all, since the time Jaesa asked her about it.

Caylia shrugged. "It was short and brutal. There isn't much more to say. I just don't want anything to come between us again. No power struggles or plots between you and I. I don't want our marriage to be governed by the rules I came to learn there."

"I understand. Caylia, I regret so much what happened, but we can become a stronger unit. There is good that can come of it." He said.

"I know. And I want it just as much as you do."

They lapsed into quiet after that, and he felt her breathing even out, as she fell asleep against his chest. The sense of contentment that had been stolen from him on the transponder ship began to seep back in, quelling his thoughts as he succumbed to sleep.


	39. Keep Away

"Oh, were you looking for this?" Malavai joked, a grin on his face. They were sitting together in on the couch near the holoterminal, the two of them alone, for the moment.

Quinn was in rare form already, his good mood brought about by their reunion and rededication to each other, but this was an experiment of sorts. He worried that the crew would lose respect for them if they saw them as less than a Sith Lord and Imperial Officer, but Caylia disagreed. They were already her friends, but she disliked the tension between Vette, Pierce and Malavai. This was her way of making him appear less stiff. Off-duty clothes, sitting in his lap, being playful - it was almost as if they were any married couple.

"How did you get that?" He'd somehow slipped off a necklace he'd given her recently without her noticing, and was now teasing her with it. He held it at arm's length with a smile on his face.

"Distraction is the oldest trick in the book. You really should be more careful." He added, as she tried to reach up to grab the item back.

"You sneak, Malavai. I didn't think you had it in you."

After a small scuffle and with some giggles, he was still holding it, but was forcibly keeping her away, an arm around her waist to keep her from getting at the hand where he had it clutched.

Desperate times call for desperate measures, Caylia thought, and she used the Force to open his hand and deliver the necklace to her outstretched palm. Quinn made a scathing noise.

"You cheat. Not everyone has the Force."

"That's what makes victory so delicious, my dear." Caylia replied, laughing.

Around the corner, Vette had stopped to watch the scene, open-mouthed on her way to the bridge. Quinn was actually sweet and fun with Lord Caylia, at least when they thought they were alone. There were more times than not when she wondered why Caylia liked the uptight man, who seemed too rigid to ever be any kind of fun, let alone married to the Sith. It was a common enough topic for the crew to ponder, but less so as time wore on. It simply became a fact that they couldn't explain. Pierce liked to bring it up whenever he was sore with Quinn, which was often. His doubts often fed her own and she'd wondered at times if Captain Quinn hadn't married Lord Caylia to aid the career that meant everything to him. 

Seeing them together with him playfully unclasping her necklace again, and remembering the time that Quinn had healed Caylia with kisses and kolto in the medbay stopped all of those thoughts. They loved each other, that fact was as clear as a perfect day on Tatooine. But as she watched them together, she felt a pang. It was almost like overhearing a secret, a conversation not meant for public consumption. She turned away when they started to kiss, not wanting to intrude further. Caylia was her friend, and if she loved that idiotic man enough to make him seem more like a person than a machine, the least Vette could do was go easy on him. For a while, anyway.


	40. The Council Chambers

Darth Baras lies dead at her feet, and Caylia is glowing with rage. Baras is nothing, his body ignored by the people he once served with. They step over him on their way to Caylia, who is still battle fierce and ready to take on dissenters. Pride swells up in his chest, along with giddy relief that grows exponentially as he watches the mask Baras wore roll across the floor and hit one of the grand council thrones. It is an ignoble end.

Caylia turns to face him and they speak wordlessly. It is done. She is beautiful, dangerous, terrible - his.

They spoke of the fight they knew was to come only once, earlier that day, when he accompanied her to the Academy. Korriban was harsh and terrible in its beauty, not unlike Caylia at that moment. She was silent at his side, her stride longer than usual, as if she wanted to run but wouldn't let herself.

"I'm just a girl from Logistics." She'd said to him, giving him a grim smile as they approached the Academy. "How did I end up here?"

"You are the single most powerful person I've ever met, my lord. You ended up here because this is where you belong." He answered, reaching out to touch her hand. 

She stopped and blew out a long breath. He waited. She turned towards him and spoke again, squaring her shoulders. "Well, we've already had the pleasure of taking out a Moff. Let's go kill a Dark Council member, just for fun."

And that was the last thing she'd said to him before they met Darth Vowrawn outside the Council Chambers.


	41. Life After

They had a party afterwards. 

Well, there was a party of sorts in the Star Cluster casino on Nar Shaddaa. Had it been up to Caylia, she would have preferred something on a resort planet where she could sleep and stuff herself, basking in sunlight and warmth, watching Quinn grow tan as the days passed. But it was for her crew as much as it was for her. They needed to celebrate her victory, and Nar Shaddaa had been decided upon before she ever made it back to the ship.

Quinn didn't even complain as Vette set the course, crowing about that 'disgusting dead darth'. She did have such a gift for alliteration.

Caylia went into the kolto tank, forgoing her customary griping. She wasn't going to show up to her own victory party covered in bruises from head to toe.

By the time they were over Nar Shaddaa, she was mostly healed and had worked herself into appreciating the atmosphere. They were alive, and as well as they could be. She and Quinn were free from Darth Baras and whatever residual influence he may have had over them.

And it was quite a party. The people on Nar Shaddaa didn't know what she'd done, or whom she'd killed or why, but they didn't like to miss out on a reason for celebration. By the time she was ready to call it quits, people she didn't know were coming up to her and congratulating her, miscellaneous pieces of thrown confetti stuck in her hair. Even Broonmark came with them, but Caylia never saw him for more than a moment as she was pulled in every direction. 

She drank more than her share of liquor, matching Pierce shot for shot for a while, until Jaesa had the good sense to pull her away. She played and lost at sabacc with Vette, who was curiously good at the game. Jaesa gave in tried something stronger than the goblet of Corellian red wine she'd sipped quietly for most of the night, and they all laughed as she blanched at the hard taste of the amber liquor she'd been given. 

With Quinn she danced, because under her tutelage he'd become quite good at it. They danced to the loud music that pulsed around them, feeding the crowd energy, and later they slow danced to the live music from the band with her head on his shoulder. He led her back to the ship while the others were still busy, only Jaesa's smiling eyes watching them leave together.

She woke up the next day mildly hungover, but with Quinn sprawled next to her in bed, snoring softly. Her finger traced the trail of dark hair the led down from his navel, but he didn't stir. Every time she'd woken up since Korriban there had been an overwhelming, incredulous burst of relief that hit her when she realized that Baras was gone, so potent that it made her want to cry and cheer in equal measure. With the passage of time it got smaller, easier to turn into fact in her mind, but that morning she felt herself revel in his death and her acceptance by the Dark Council. She would never again suffer that odious man, whom she'd disliked instantly back on Korriban. 

At that moment, she had it all. Caylia earned the small celebrations, both the one she was having in private that morning and the previous night with her crew.

#####

Life after was more routine and sadly, less about decisive victories. The Emperor's Hands had much for her to do, and there was a war raging around them. They fought the Republic on too many fronts for her to truly know, small skirmishes and large battles, in space and groundside. She'd been given new instructions, and tied up loose ends on to aid the battle on Corellia. There was always more work, a conflict in need of her help, Imperials on Belsavis still fighting, a call to go to Vaiken Spacedock.

She started sending them out again, because she'd kept her crew with her in those final days leading up to her confrontation with Baras. Jaesa honed her power, went on diplomatic missions and studied. Pierce assaulted the Bastion with his temporarily reformed black ops group at long last, and Caylia did her part to subtly encourage him to make a move with Vette. Broonmark bloodied his claws at her side, finding new viciousness in each battle. Vette was constantly there, as she had been since the beginning, with a quip, encouragement and messages from her sister.

And there was Malavai. Always Malavai, who came to her and told her was ready to train her disciples and their children. There would be more apprentices than just Jaesa, more officers that followed her than just Pierce, and allies wherever they could find them. He understood what her power meant and whom it would attract, and what his role was to be within it. Swearing his dedication to her and her legacy, Malavai said that their bond made him stronger. It was a turning point - it had once been something they'd both considered a weakness, liability turned into an asset. They were looking ahead together, finally back to the place where they'd started.

"My legacy is yours as well, Malavai." Caylia reminded him, very glad that they weren't at odds anymore. The unknown future was easier to face with his loyalty, love and dedication.

"You always know how to make me smile."


	42. In Case of Infant

The crush of people at Vaiken Spacedock rumbled around her, a dull roar in the background as Caylia checked her mail. She was reading his message for the third time, smiling as she did. It was so like Quinn, practical and steady to the last, to make an infant contingency report and send it to her.

Caylia wasn't even with child yet, but she knew the minute she was, Malavai would spring into action, and she'd never have to worry. Though still reserved in all of his dealings with her that might be seen by outsiders, he was always warm with her in private. On their ship, he was kilometers from where he had been when he first came aboard, and that memory made her smile again. "I'll miss your rugged good looks, Quinn." She'd said in response to his glowing praise about her performance, flirting back on Balmorra.

When she finally completed her errands and made her way back to him, it was at the end of an exhausting day. He was there, as always, providing comfort and asking how her day went.

Caylia pulled him close. "I got your 'Infant Contingency Plan'. She said, smirking at him. He smiled back at her, unafraid and open. It filled her heart to see his enthusiasm to expand their family written on his face, her husband, her love. 

"I thought it prudent, my love. We are closer than ever now, and it is a likely occurrence."

"It is very sensible, Malavai, as you always are." Caylia said, pulling him into a loose hug. She looked up at him through her lashes, playing coy. "I just thought you might want to work on phase one of the plan right now."

"Phase one?" Malavai asked, confusion narrowing his eyes. He wasn't sure he'd outlined phases.

"The steps that go into making an infant." Caylia reminded him, an eyebrow quirked.

Instead of the immediate enthusiasm she expected to her suggestion, Malavai looked conflicted, brow furrowed as he considered her. "What is it?" She asked.

"Technically, this isn't the optimal time for fertilization. We should wait." He said, but then he did something he'd been doing ever since they met on Balmorra and she teased him mercilessly; he turned his head away. Whenever Quinn didn't want to state a divergent opinion, or was too uncomfortable to offer his suggestion, he turned away. 

But the grin on his face was plainly one of a man that wanted to be caught by his wife, and she knew him too well not to call him out on his teasing. His grin was lopsided, mischievous and made him all the more handsome as she pulled him closer. It said he wasn't in the mood to follow his own suggestion - he was merely telling her the truth and waiting for her assessment. Her word as always, would be the final one, even in this. Caylia slid a hand up his back, pressing into him so that her own warmth mingled with his through their armor.

"Let's just call this practice, then." Caylia answered, and Quinn turned his smile towards her, eyes shining as he leaned into her kiss.

Practice, after all, made perfect sense in their case.


	43. Epilogue - Nothing But the Rain

Quinn was reading - working, as he lay back on the couch. Like most of their furniture, it had the softness of new about it rather than the comfort of worn and familiar, but he doubted they would be there long enough for anything to become too worn. They were on Dromund Kaas, in their apartment. It felt funny to say that, their apartment, but it was theirs, a gift from the Emperor himself. The grateful Dark Council, and by that he meant Vowrawn specifically, had allowed Caylia to absorb the estate of Darth Baras, which had recently been made significantly larger when he betrayed his own master. They were wealthier than Malavai had ever imagined he'd become, even after years of diligently saving his commissions.

Caylia was laying against his chest, somewhere between awake and sleeping. Surrounding them was the rare silence they were never afforded on the ship, and their domestic droid had dinner cooking for them. All day she'd been taking care of loose ends, both for her work and for them. The apartment had been receiving deliveries all day, things she'd bought or wanted removed. It looked entirely different upon her return than it had when she left early that morning. He'd overseen it all, made sure that she came back to a tidy home, checked on the ship repairs and their crew. All was going well, so they were afforded a rare moment of respite.

Outside, the weather of Dromund Kaas persisted in its usual storms. Raindrops slid down the large plate glass window that looked out upon the city far below, the scene like watercolors spreading and dripping into each other. He heard the crackle of electricity as lightning ignited somewhere overhead and died just as suddenly as it had come. The rain seemed quieter afterwards, just a steady beat against the glass. The storms never bothered him as they did Caylia, but Dromund Kaas was his home planet. Just outside the spaceport, she'd stopped in the rain to kiss him - just a fleeting press of her lips against his, a hand squeezing his inside of his pocket, as they waited for the speeder to Kaas City. He'd never truly appreciated the constant thrum of the rain until this trip. 

Malavai let his hand drift down her back, just the lightest of touches. Her ear implant pressed into his chest where her head rested, but he didn't mind. Having his wife curled up in his lap was distracting to say the least, but it was a most pleasant diversion from the reports he'd started to review. She lifted her eyes to meet his, resting a hand on his chest as she did. Caylia had lovely hazel eyes - it was his privilege to see them clouded with sleep and smiling back at him.

That he had her still made a plume of flame ignite within him. There was so much between them in such a short space of time, and while the hurt was soothed and their misunderstandings righted there was an indent left that he'd been desperately trying to fill with love and devotion. Most of the time, he felt he came up short with such paltry efforts attempting to atone for so much, but then he'd catch her staring at him the same way he often looked at her. With love and deep affection, laced with a sort of detached amazement that someone loved him, underwritten by desire. 

"What do you hear?" Caylia asked in a whisper.

Looking out the window towards the dark landscape of Dromund Kaas, Malavai watched the rivulets of water fracture the scene into a kaleidoscope of colors before he answered. "Nothing but the rain."


End file.
